


Make A Wish

by EllanaSan



Series: Katniss, The Vampire Slayer [4]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire Slayer, F/M, Katniss the Vampire Slayer, Slayer!Katniss, Talent Shows, Witch!Effie, watcher!haymitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-12-29 18:40:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18299831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: “Okay.” Katniss interrupted, obviously bored with the magic lesson. “So you think someone at school is playing with magic?”“I think someone at school played at reciting an incantation and did not expect it to work.” Effie confirmed. “A little like sayingBloody Marythree times in front of a mirror – which, for the record, I highly adviseagainston a Hellmouth.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And we're back with episode Four! Talent shows, magic and demons aplenty!

Giving in to temptation once was the first step on the slippery path that led down to hell.

One of the Watchers who taught at the academy was fond of saying that. Haymitch wondered if the guy was still teaching and if, maybe, Trinket had heard the same words of wisdom in her time. If she felt their weight the same way he now did.

He took a sip of his tepid coffee and told himself he was being _stupid_. It wasn’t because he was surrounded by teenagers that he needed to start behaving like one.

 _Seam_ _High_ ’s auditorium was a square room with a stage, a backstage area and rows upon rows of plastic chairs that he strongly suspected dated back to when _he_ had been in high school. The red curtains that lined the stage were weighted down by dust and the walls could probably have done with a new coat of paint too.

Needless to say that Effie Trinket, her short tight cream skirt and matching silk blouse with her purple mid-sleeve jacket and equally purple heels, her blond hair pinned up in a crown braid and her flashy jewelry that caught the neon lights with every move, stood out like a sore thumb. She was standing in the middle of the aisle formed by the chairs, a clipboard hugged tight to her chest and she was watching one of the kids work on his Shakespeare monologue.

 _Talent shows_. A big fat waste of time.

He slowly made his way toward her, trying to make his coffee last. He had told her he would be there once he had had a cup and that had been almost a whole hour ago. He hated school projects. He hated _being roped_ into school projects even more.

He didn’t know if it was _her_ idea or Plutarch’s. She claimed it was the principal’s but, at the same, time, she had been very interested in spending time with him as of late. It had been two weeks since they had slept together and he had been forced to fend off countless offers of carpooling and morning jogs.

Not that she was hinting she wanted more than just a car ride – or a bike ride – or a friend to run with in the morning. She was being very casual about the whole one-night-stand thing and he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Either she _had_ gotten it out of her system and was now ready to be friends or she was trying to lure him into something more one car ride at a time.

He still wasn’t sure he trusted her. He had managed to reach Finnick – _finally_ – and the only two things the boy had consented to tell him were that Mags was recovering as well as expected and that he could personally vouch for Trinket. So Haymitch had invited her to come along on patrol a couple of times. He figured it killed two birds with one stone: she got to report to Coin on Katniss’ progress but it allowed him to frame the context as much as possible _and_ she was involved which was what she wanted.

Besides, watching her stumble around a muddy cemetery at night in the heels she refused to part with was hilarious.

“There you are!” she huffed when she spotted him. “Did you get lost on your way back from the staff room, I wonder? Should I draw you a map next time?”

“Hold your horses.” he grumbled. “Ain’t like you don’t have everything in hands anyway.”

She had plans, schedules, to-do lists and enough disapproving stares to toss around, she didn’t need his help. There were so many kids running around the auditorium to do her bidding, he didn’t see why she even wanted him there.

 _It’s a two persons job_ , Plutarch had claimed.

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him in that very disapproving way that made the students cringe and run away to fix whatever mistake they had done. That look did things to him that were probably not right.

 _Temptation_. That was the thing. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t seem to move on now that he had had her. She really wasn’t his type. He didn’t like blondes, he didn’t like _fussy_ and he didn’t like complicated. She was all three and more. And that was without mentioning the ridiculous bows on the back of her heels or the huge tissue flower on the right breast of her jacket.

In another life, she must have been a clown.

On stage, the kid was still slaughtering Shakespeare and, eventually, she sighed. “Is there anyone in this auditorium with a _moderate amount_ of talent?”

She kept her voice very low because most of the students who would be performing in the show were sitting on the first few rows of chairs in front of the stage, each clutching the color-coded schedules she had handed out when they had started this thing. It was only the first day of rehearsals and already he could see the disaster it would be in all its glory.

He snorted. “You really expected any?”

“Would you go backstage and check on how they are doing with the set?” she requested.

“There’s any way I can say no without you turning me into a toad?” he mocked.

Her glare said it all and he wisely decided to pick his battles. Besides, if he played his cards right he could waste more time he should have spent actually _supervising_ this thing. As far as he was concerned, she was better at handling the _show_ aspect of things.

Stepping backstage was like stepping into a beehive. Most of the kids who were painting, hammering nails or who suddenly made their phones disappear in their pockets and pretended to be working at his sudden appearance were Trinket’s Art students and it showed. They were efficient. Most of them.

“Everything’s fine here?” he asked. He got a collective “ _yes”_ /”yes, sir”/ “yeah” that he decided was good enough for him. “Good. Keep it up.” He spotted a couple making out in the far back and rolled his eyes. “Keep it PG over there. Hands where everyone can see them.”

He guessed that wasn’t how Trinket would have done it but it made everyone laugh and that was what he had been after. The girl blushed and darted away anyway so he supposed it had done the job.

He spotted Hawthorne hammering planks together in the corner so he gave that spot a wide berth and approached Peeta who was painting the banners that would be hanged around the school.

He hadn’t learned to like Gale Hawthorne in the last couple of weeks. The boy invited himself on patrol and while Haymitch was ready to admit he was good with a bow, he didn’t like the way he always tried to get between Katniss and danger. First because it would get him killed – as he had told him _and_ Katniss several times – and then simply because it hinted that he didn’t think the girl was competent enough to defend herself – which she _was._ The act was becoming old and he knew Katniss was getting as fed up with it as he was. She had stopped inviting the boy to come along but he showed up anyway.

It was part of the reason he had asked Trinket to come on patrol more often. The fireballs she summoned came in handy and so did the flaming arrows trick. Besides, it gave him someone to talk to when Hawthorne monopolized Katniss. He didn’t like feeling like a third wheel and the boy clearly wasn’t willing to learn anything from him – not even History if his grades were to be believed – he never asked questions and never listened to Haymitch’s advices.

It took Peeta a while to realize the shadow that had fallen across the banner was his. The boy looked up and offered a hello but not much else.

“You’ve been a stranger.” Haymitch accused, lowering himself to the floor on the other side of the banner so he could face the kid. Not that Peeta looked ready to look at him. He was hunched over and focused on his work.

“I’ve been busy with school and work.” the boy answered, his fingers clenching around his paintbrush.

Had Trinket wanted something _that_ elaborated for the banners or was it Peeta’s initiative? Usually spray paint and a simple “Talent show” followed by the dates did very well but Peeta was doing something a lot more complex than that with stylized letters and a very detailed background…

“So busy you don’t even go to wrestling practice anymore?” Haymitch challenged.

Peeta frowned and this time when he glanced up, anger and disbelief were fighting on his face. “You’re spying on me?”

“No.” he countered calmly. “I’m worried so I’m keeping tabs. Noticed your car has been repaired…”

He had been seeing it in the parking lot for a few days.

“Dad had it fixed.” Peeta mumbled. “And there’s nothing to be worried about. I’m fine. I’m  just…”

His sentence trailed off.

“Busy.” Haymitch finished for him. “You’re working at the bakery?”

“Yeah.” Peeta shrugged. “I’m helping around.”

“Is that how you got hurt?” he asked, already more or less suspecting the answer.

Peeta startled. His blue eyes darted up and back to what he was doing, betraying his alarm. “I’m not hurt.”

Haymitch took a second, told himself not to rush this. He had been waiting for _days_ for the boy to come to him or, at least, to come over with Katniss so he could have a quiet word. Try to, at least. He had been working on and off as a teacher over the years, he had seen the looks before, he knew what to watch for. In the two months he had known the boy, there had been a few alarm bells but the way Peeta had held himself the afternoon they had destroyed the amulet… The way he had flinched away from the hand Haymitch had placed on his shoulder when he had never seemed skittish about it before… The overwhelming panic the kid had displayed on the night he had crashed his car…

It hadn’t been typical _I wrecked the car and my parents will ground me forever_ panic. It had been deeper, far more primitive and rooted in terror.

“You’ve got burns on your arm.” he said quietly.

Peeta’s reaction was to yank down his sleeve to cover the half-healed burned marks. “It was an accident.” 

“Sure.” Haymitch commented dubiously. “Ain’t the first time though, yeah?”

“I work in a bakery. Sometimes you get burned. It happens.” Peeta snapped. “Leave me _alone_. What do you want anyway?”

The kid looked ready to bolt and Haymitch chose to keep his peace for now. There was no point pushing too much or too far. It wouldn’t be productive.

“You never come around on patrol anymore.” he pointed out. “And we’re still trying to find information on the Careers. Katniss’s helpless at research but you’ve got a knack for it. We’ve missed you.”

“She’s got Gale now.” Peeta snorted. “Why would she need me? He’s _actually_ useful in a fight, unlike me.”

Haymitch didn’t think he really meant that. There was something else going on. Something that had to do with the burns on his arms.

He had been toying with the idea of paying his father a visit but he didn’t want to risk making it worse for the kid. He had no proof, just ugly suspicions.

“Ain’t like you to go down without a fight.” he sighed.

“I can’t force her to love me.” Peeta replied and then, probably realizing just what he had let slip out – not that it was a huge surprise – he looked back down at the banner, his cheeks flushing red. “Look, I really need to finish this, so…”

“Right. Should probably go back out there before Trinket sends a search party anyway…” he snorted.

“She’s not that bad.” the boy half-chided, a little defensive. “I like her.” He paused for a beat and then shrugged again. “She says I’m her best student, that I could really do something with my paintings.”

He wasn’t sure what her qualifications were when it came down to Arts. _He_ didn’t really have a degree in History, that was the Council’s cover story. For the boy’s sakes, he hoped she was sincere and not simply being kind because he had the feeling Peeta didn’t need to be crushed more than he already was.

“She’s alright.” he admitted, a little reluctantly. He was still wary of her but he was willing to give her a chance. Finnick vouched for her, that was good enough for him. He could give her the benefit of the doubt. “Look, kid… If you ever need somewhere to go or if you want to talk about something… You know where to find me, yeah?”

He didn’t stand up until Peeta nodded. He didn’t really like the thought of leaving it at that but for now there was only so much he could do. By the time he went back into the main part of the auditorium, Trinket was waving that clipboard as if she _really_ wanted to toss it at someone’s head.

“ _Do_ try to give it a little life, dear.” she berated the Shakespeare kid. “This is _theater_. It should have some… _flair!”_

“Miss Trinket, it should be my turn now.” Glimmer huffed from her front row seat, flicking her golden locks over her shoulder. “I _need_ to rehearse.”

“My apologies, I _do_ hate being off-schedule too but some need more practice than others.” she retorted. It was too much for the Shakespeare kid who ran off crying. Trinket cringed. “Well, now… This is show business… No need to get upset, it should be _fun, fun, fun_!”

Glimmer saw her chance and climbed on the empty stage, ordering one of the fanfare kids to sit at the piano in the corner. Haymitch took advantage of the diva teenager making her usual show to approach Trinket, he reached out to get her attention, his hand cradling her elbow without really noticing it.

“I need a favor.” he said without much ado.

“Given that you have been leaving me alone to deal with _everything_ , it should be good.” she retorted.

He gave her arm a little shake so she would stop watching the blond cheerleader who had started a not quite terrible rendition of a pop song to look at him.

“Try to get through to Peeta.” he demanded.

“Ah.” she said, understanding dawning in her eyes. “Then, I am not the only one suspecting a problem.”

His expression darkened. “No. You ain’t.”

“I will see what I can do.” The anger and worry that flashed on her face mirrored his and he started drawing soothing circles on her arm with his thumb without really noticing it. Or the fact that he hadn’t yet let go of her. Her features slowly lost their angry edge and her lips stretched in a small grin. “I thought it was out of your system, Haymitch. Are you relapsing?”

He should have snatched his hand away and tossed a gibe her way. He used the grip he had on his arm to tug her a step closer. “Maybe. What about you?”

Her eyes were twinkling in obvious delight. Or maybe it was just amusement. “I try not to let that kind of… _illness_ bother me in a professional setting such as this.”

“What kind of illness?” Katniss asked.

Haymitch startled and, this time, bolted away from Trinket, turning to face his Slayer. Her hunting skills came in handy a lot in her duties but sometimes he really wanted to tie a bell around her neck.

“Migraines.” Trinket answered smoothly. “Is there… an emergency?”

Katniss had been vocal about what she thought of the talent show and the fact that she would _not_ be participating.

The girl let out a pained groan and made a face. “Heavensbee found us talking in the hallway and now we _have_ to do this _stupid_ thing. He said it would help us get more involved in the school’s life or _whatever_.”

Haymitch couldn’t help an unsympathetic snort. “Welcome to my life.”

“Yeah, well…” Katniss scowled, mostly at Trinket. Smart girl probably knew he wasn’t the one doing most of the job there. “Put us backstage to help with the set or something.”

“I do not really need any more people working on the set…” Trinket frowned. “But I _could_ use an assistant given how _unhelpful_ some people are.” When she glared at him, Haymitch simply winked. It seemed to infuriate her even more, which was very good in his book. He _so_ loved pushing her buttons. “You said _we_ , who is with you?”

“Oh, Madge.” Katniss shrugged, waving over a blond girl who had stopped next to the door to talk to another student.

Haymitch wasn’t really paying attention.

At least, not until the kid was close enough to touch.

All the blood left his face and the only sound he could hear was the beating of his heart. He was barely aware of Trinket greeting the blond girl or loudly exclaiming two assistants would be better than one. His knees buckled and he reached behind him for one of the chairs before his legs could give in. Still, he collapsed on it so abruptly that a couple of other chairs were pushed away, one toppled over…

There were a lot of gasps and worried questions. The music stopped, the singing stopped, every eyes in the auditorium turned to him…

He could only stare at the ghost.

It _had_ to be a ghost.

Because Maysilee Donner was dead. He had _seen_ it. He had hold her hand until she had passed. He had hugged her body to his chest and vowed that he would never train any Slayer again. He had been there when her family had buried her. He still stopped for a moment every time they walked by her grave on patrol.

“Haymitch? Haymitch?” Trinket called, sounding frantic. Her fingers were working on the buttons of his shirt. She undid three and, when it didn’t have any effect, she pressed her palm flat on his throat, under his Adam’s apple. “ _Breathe.”_

It wasn’t simply an order. He felt the magic ripple on him, forcing air into his lungs. He gulped and then did it again, feeling foolish for not having thought of _breathing_ before.

The ghost didn’t fade or disappear. It wasn’t shimmering like most ghosts did. It wasn’t… She looked _real_.

Trinket’s hand on his cheek turned his head away, forcing him to stop staring. He found himself looking at a crouching Art teacher instead. “Does your chest hurt? Are you having a heart attack?”

He could still feel her magic rippling over him and he wondered what she was trying to do. Figure out what was wrong with him? Save him? He didn’t like magic working on him much usually but hers felt warm and left odd tingles in its wake, not in a bad way either. The way it wrapped around him was protective and he didn’t even try to fight it off. Another puzzle.

“I’m calling 911.” someone shouted in the background.

“No.” he found himself protesting, gently but firmly pushing Trinket’s hand away from his cheek. “No. I’m good. I’m _good_.”

He pushed himself back up to his feet, shrugging Katniss off when she tried to steady him by grabbing his arm. He chanced a look to the right and there she still was, the living ghost, looking at him with sad understanding eyes.

“Maysilee?” He had to ask. He _had_ to. He knew it was crazy and impossible but they were standing on a _Hellmouth_. A Hellmouth on top of which she had _died_. Who knew what impossible meant in these conditions...

And there was the bird pin Katniss wore sometimes. The bird pin that had made his reappearance not long after Katniss had been called when the last Slayer who had worn it…

“I’m Madge.” the ghost denied, shaking her head, her eyes a little teary. “Maysilee was my aunt.”

He heard Katniss suck in a breath next to him, he heard Trinket suddenly shooing everyone back to work with instant understanding of what must have happened, he even heard Glimmer petulantly ask what she had thought of her singing…

“Do you _know_ about… _the thing_?” Katniss accused, her voice dripping with betrayal.

The girl… Madge looked between her and Haymitch with a mix of dread and hope. “I didn’t _know_ it’s true. I suspected?” 

“So you were just trying to… _What_?” his Slayer scoffed. “You were _pretending_ to be friends with me?”

“Of course not!” Madge protested.

“Girls.” Trinket cut in firmly. “Here is _not_ the place.” She glanced at him. “Haymitch, do you…”

“I need fresh air.” he muttered in a blank voice.

“Of course.” she accepted readily. “Katniss, perhaps you could…”

“I need fresh air _alone_.” he cut her off. “Stay away.”

It was a warning as much to the other Watcher as to the girl and the stranger wearing a ghost’s face.

He stormed out of the auditorium, not intending to come back.

°O°O°O°O°

Peeta watched Haymitch leave the backstage area to go back to the auditorium with what he hoped to be a blank face. He made sure his arms were covered properly before going back to work on the banner. He hated the thought that Haymitch suspected… Would he tell Katniss?

He had known he was in trouble the moment he had gotten a proper look at the car – deeper trouble than a vampire cult and a possible apocalypse. The memory of his father’s sorry face when he had handed him the key of his newly repaired car a few days ago made him feel sick. More and more lately, the rage was building up inside and he hated feeling that way. He didn’t want to hate his family.

“What did he want?”

Gale Hawthorne had left the corner where he was helping building a box for one of their classmates’ magician performance and was now crouching next to him with his elbows propped on his knees, completely at ease.

Another person who made it difficult for him not to give in to hatred.

 _Hatred leads to suffering_. He smiled a little to himself, wondering if Katniss and Haymitch would have caught that quotation. He had been having a lot of fun throwing random pop culture references just to see them look at each other in ignorance and then roll their eyes in perfect unison. But that had been before, of course. Before Gale had followed Katniss to the cemetery and Peeta had felt like an awkward third wheel to his flying arrows and their dramatic hugging in the middle of a church in ruins.

Not that he could have risked blowing off a shift at the bakery to follow her out at night anyway. Not right now. 

“Nothing.” he answered, keeping his eyes on the banner. He could hear Glimmer singing on stage and while it wasn’t _bad_ , it wasn’t exceptional either. “Why?”

What did Gale Hawthorne care about what Haymitch had to say to him? He had already backed out on his own volition, for his own good. He would give it a little more time and then, when things had calmed down at home, he would go back to Haymitch’s. He could help with research at least. He didn’t have to go on patrol if Katniss didn’t want to take him with them but he could still be involved somehow. He wanted to help for more reasons than his feelings for her. It was the right thing to do, if anything. 

“He doesn’t like me.” Gale shrugged. It was an explanation and an accusation all rolled into one.

 _Maybe if you hadn’t spent weeks accusing him of taking advantage of Katniss_ , he mused. He bit the words back though. There was no sense starting a fight over something that had clearly already been addressed between them. It wasn’t his battle to fight anyway. 

“Haymitch believes in tough love.” he replied, focusing back on his work.

He had thought that would be the whole extent of the conversation but apparently not.

“Say, Mellark…” Gale hesitated and then cleared his throat. “ _Peeta_.” Peeta did look up in surprise at the unprecedented use of his first name. “Katniss told me you’ve been researching the Slayer thing?”

His first reaction was to glance around to make sure nobody had heard. Gale had taken care to lower his voice though.

He frowned. “Haymitch lent me a couple of books, I wanted to understand the whole thing better. I can give you a list if you want but I’m sure if you ask him…”

“No. I just…” Gale cut him off. He was nervously drumming on his leg and wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I’ve been thinking and… In those books, did you find out how to put an end to it? How to call another Slayer?”

A ball of lead dropped in Peeta’s stomach.

Katniss had explained to her best friend how the Slayer line worked that night in the woods already. Several times.

He could understand it had been a lot to take in, though. It had been for _him_.

“If another Slayer is called, it means Katniss is dead.” he answered carefully.

Gale swept that away with a nervous gesture of his hand. “Come on, there _must_ be another way. A trick or a loophole or _something…_ This whole thing is madness, you can see that, yeah? She’s going to get herself killed, she says herself that her lifespan is going to be short. There _must_ be a way to get her off the hook.”

“If she ever finds out we’re talking behind her back we’re the ones who are going to get killed.” he scoffed.

“I’m just trying to help her.” Gale insisted. “What about magic?” The other boy sounded a little reluctant. “You looked interested the other day. There must be a spell that can take this Slayer thing out of her.”

“Miss Trinket is the magic expert.” he countered. “I’ve _barely_ read a book on minor spells. And even if we could take her Slayer powers out, where would we put them? I don’t think something like this can be banished, it would have to be given to someone else. Assuming they’re strong enough to bear it.”

At least, that was how he understood the principle of magic but he might have been wrong. And it didn’t guarantee Katniss would even survive the ordeal. Listening to Haymitch, fate was a treacherous _bitch_ and didn’t like to be tricked.

“We could pass it on Abernathy.” Gale suggested without a single moment of hesitation. “After all, he’s all about demon fighting, right? Let him be the hero.”

Peeta was becoming wary of the direction the conversation was going. It was sounding less and less theoretical and more and more like Gale was seriously considering it.

“Haymitch is a man and the Slayer is always a girl.” he objected reluctantly.

“Trinket, then.” Gale shrugged as if it didn’t make a difference. As if one didn’t matter more than the other. As if they didn’t matter _at all._  

“I’m not sure she would want it.” he pointed out slowly, studying the guy’s face.

“Who says we have to ask?” the other boy retorted. “Did _they_ ask before saddling Katniss with this?”

Neither Haymitch nor Effie had _chosen_ any more than Katniss had and Peeta was horrified by the very idea of what Gale was suggesting. “That’s not _right_.”

“Cause it’s right for _Katniss_ to have to go out there every night and fight monsters?” Gale spat.

“Did you talk about it with her first or are you just sneaking behind her back?” he accused. Katniss had never hinted to him that she wanted to get rid of her powers. She hadn’t been happy about being the Slayer, particularly at first but he thought she had come into her own after the first few weeks of transition. She enjoyed training with Haymitch and she viewed it like a job she was particularly good at. 

The commotion in the auditorium prevented him from answering. Someone screeched, the music stopped… Peeta bolted toward the curtains that parted the backstage area from the stage without thinking twice about it, half expecting a hoard of vampires even though the sun was still up. What he found instead was a clutter of students urgently whispering together and staring at Haymitch who had collapsed on a chair, white as a sheet. Miss Trinket was crouching next to him, talking to him…

Peeta jumped off the stage but by the time he got close enough, Haymitch seemed to have recovered and was waving away offers of help. He obeyed the Art teacher’s request to go back to what they had been doing because he wouldn’t have liked being gawked out if he had almost fainted either. He climbed back on the stage since it was the quickest path to his abandoned banner, he hadn’t expected to be cornered by a grinning girl.

“Did you hear me sing?” Glimmer asked.

She was wearing her cheerleader uniform and she was toying with a strand of her hair, her head tilted to the side, with a look on her face he recognized from countless flirting sessions at different parties.

“Yeah. It was cool.” he said politely if a touch coolly. He thought Glimmer was going out with Marvel but they were always on and off lately. It was the drama their lives revolved around. Given how Marvel had been treating _him_ recently though…

The smile she flashed him was bright and she placed a hand on his arm. “I hoped you would like it… Peeta, this whole fight is so stupid… If you want to come sit back at our table at lunch…”

“Peeta!” Katniss called and, like a moth to a flame, he turned away from his former friend without a word to walk toward the friend he wasn’t sure he still had. It didn’t help that she was wearing her hair in one of those fancy braids that fell over her shoulder – Prim had probably done her hair because that kind of braid was her specialty. She looked lovely. Even with the worried glances she kept throwing at the door Haymitch had disappeared through. “Trinket wants to know how the banners are coming along.”

“I’ll have them ready by tomorrow.” he promised.

“Okay.” she said. She didn’t walk back to the teacher though. She remained there and watched him, apparently torn between being angry and hesitant. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” He cleared his throat and looked down at her scrapped boots. “You?”

“Good.” she said a little harshly, as if to say it was no thanks to him.

The next stall in the conversation was very awkward so, all in all, it was almost a good thing when Glimmer stomped her foot. “Do you _mind_? I am trying to rehearse and you are hogging the stage. Shouldn’t you go shoot a deer or something?”

She was glaring daggers at Katniss who glared right back. It was almost funny how different they looked… Glimmer was the typical bee queen and Katniss was wearing oversized pants and a simple loose green shirt that had never ever been fashionable to any teenager on this planet. And yet Katniss was prettier. To him, she was prettier than any girl at school. Perhaps even in the whole world.

It had always been like that.

“What’s your problem?” she spat at Glimmer.

Glimmer sneered at her as if she was an old gum under her sole. “You should stop aiming too high. The fall is going to kill you.”

It was perhaps lucky for Glimmer that Miss Trinket called her back at that moment because he was pretty sure Glimmer almost got herself punched.

He seized that chance to escape and go back to his uncomplicated painting.

Gale wasn’t anywhere near his banners anymore.

The relief was overwhelming.


	2. Chapter 2

Katniss glanced at Haymitch’s house before reluctantly making her way up the paved alley that led to Trinket’s front door. She wasn’t sure how she had done it but the front yard didn’t look desolate or abandoned anymore, there were square flat stones that formed a path to the door and the outer walls and blinds had all been repainted – white and blue respectively. The house looked really nice and by comparison the state of disrepair of Haymitch’s and the rest of the Village was even more glaring.

She glanced at it again before ringing the doorbell. The bike was in the driveway but the house was dark and she couldn’t tell if he was there at all.

When the door opened, she turned back to face the Watcher witch.

“Oh!” Trinket exclaimed in surprise, her eyes darting up from her to Haymitch’s house. “I thought…” She seemed to think better of voicing whatever it was she had thought and flashed her a bright dazzling smile. “Is there a problem?”

Katniss studied her. Anyone else might have considered jeans and a loose pastel shirt casual clothes but Effie Trinket didn’t do casual even when she was obviously doing house chores. The jeans were skinny tight and the holes on the thighs looked studied, the shirt was pale blue silk even if it was stained with wayward spots of paint and her hair was still up in that crown braid that, Katniss had to admit, looked good. There was also a line of blue paint on her cheek, from chin to cheekbone that she was pretty sure the woman hadn’t noticed or she wouldn’t have answered the door.

“Haymitch texted me. I’m supposed to train with you today.” she grumbled. Not happy about it at all. She had tried calling him, she had tried sending messages, she had considered skipping the training session entirely…

And then she had thought that maybe she could use the session to get answers out of someone who would be willing to give them. After all, Trinket was a Watcher too.

“Train. With me.” Trinket repeated blankly, her blue eyes traveling from her to the house on the other side of the street again. “He did not mention.”

“Did you see him?” she asked, worry slipping in her voice.

“Briefly when I came home.” the woman sighed, stepping aside to let her in. “He was… _indisposed_.”

She wrinkled her nose when she said it and Katniss rolled her eyes. “So, _drunk_.”

Trinket hesitated and then closed the front door, shaking her head. “As a skunk.”

“He doesn’t do it often.” she said defensively, eyeing her like a hawk. What would happen if the witch reported that incident to the Council? Would Haymitch be fired? Katniss had no intentions of following _her_ orders.

“He should not do it at all but it is neither here nor there.” Trinket sighed, gesturing at her to walk further into the house. “And I suppose there were special circumstances today. _Come in, come in_. Would you like something to drink? I would not mind some tea.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Katniss shrugged.

She glanced into the living-room on their way to the kitchen, very curious. Two walls were painted a vivid shade of apple green, the other two a deep earth brown, on each walls big circles in the opposite colors had been added. The furniture was obviously brand new. The couch was white leather, there was a giant screen on the wall, the fluffy rug was a cream color, an electric fire had been added inside the fireplace and everything else was a mix of gleaming mahogany and glass.

The corridors were painted white with a red freeze on the very top of the wall and there were consoles with vases full of flowers or statues that managed to occupy the space without making it feel crowded.

She couldn’t help but turn on herself to take everything in, gaping a little. The layout was the very same as Haymitch’s house but it couldn’t have looked more different.

The door that would have led to the library at Haymitch’s was closed and she opened it to take a peek. Trinket must have heard but if she had an objection she didn’t voice it. It was obviously an armory. Haymitch had countless weapons stashed in various caches, one in every room of the house – and he had made sure Katniss knew them all, even the ones in the bathroom – but Trinket obviously kept everything in there. There were strange shaped blades and ancient looking bows mounted on the walls, odd symbols shining a little on each of them… Some of them were exposed on red velvet cushions, encased in glass like at the museum… There were spots on the ceiling, to give them the best light… The walls in that room had been painted white and gold… 

Katniss hadn’t realized she had stepped inside until she was reaching out for the slick bow that looked like it was made out of a bamboo branch hanging on the wall. It looked very simple, too old to function really, but…

“The Bow of Destiny. It belonged to a samurai. It is said the arrows have the power to trap the soul of its victim.” Trinket supplied. “It feeds on it.”

Katniss abruptly jumped back. “It’s alive?”

“Not in the way you intend it.” she denied. “But some of these weapons are bloodthirsty. They are all enchanted. I had the rest of my collection brought over from England a week ago. You are welcome to borrow them but never touch any without checking with me or Haymitch first. Some of those are dangerous. Actually, I _would_ prefer you ask me first before borrowing them.”

“Not a problem.” she vowed. She would never _ever_ touch any of them. She trusted weapons that _weren’t_ hungry for blood a lot more.

She followed Trinket to the kitchen where the kettle was starting to whistle. The kitchen had been painted a bright sunny yellow that was almost blinding to the eye. The cupboards, cabinets and appliances were all a gleaming white. Even the table at the center of the room was made of white lacquered wood. Katniss barely _dared_ sit down and she wasn’t surprised that the tea came out of an ornate teapot and was poured in matching china cups with _actual_ saucers. She was careful not to spill a single drop.

“How did you do all this with the house in just two weeks?” she asked finally, when she couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

Trinket beamed. “Do you like it?”

“It’s… colorful.” Katniss hesitated but when it came down to it she realized she did like it. It was bright and everything was obviously worth three times the price of her trailer but it wasn’t as _in your face_ as it could have been. It was tasteful, for as much as she could tell – she wasn’t an expert. “I like it.”

Katniss looked down at the white tiles and noticed a very discreet yellow pattern running over them… Even the details were perfect. 

The Art teacher looked genuinely pleased by that. “It is not done yet. The first floor is still a work in progress. Which reminds me... How are you with a paintbrush?” The question was almost sheepish. “I would _love_ to give you a training session, Katniss, but the problem – aside from the obvious fact Haymitch did not think to warn me and I do not have anything prepared – is that the gym is not operational yet.”

“Are you putting it in the basement like Haymitch?” she asked, finishing her tea.

“Oh, is that where his is?” Trinket hummed. “No, I am having it on the upper floor. I suppose in his house it would correspond to the second story of the library. I do like to see the sunlight when I train.”

“You train?” She frowned.

The woman blushed a little. “Well, I should not say _train_. I _exercise_ , really. I have to keep in shape. My figure, you see.”

The witch brushed a hand on her very flat stomach with a nervous chuckle and Katniss fought not to roll her eyes. “Sure. Alright. What are we painting?”

Trinket seemed pleased that she was willing to stay and help, maybe a little relieved too. She supposed she hadn’t been very nice to the Art teacher up until then. She had been annoyed when Haymitch had started bringing her on patrols, all the more so because Gale was already insisting on coming with them all the time and she had enjoyed having some quiet time with Haymitch before that. Now she was lucky if she hit a vampire at all. Gale was always shooting them before she could get close enough to land a punch. It irritated her. So, naturally, Trinket’s intrusion had irritated her too.

She wasn’t sure she liked the woman much. She was pretty sure she _didn’t_. And the magic thing was creepy and would never stop to be – although she did like it when Trinket made her bow shoot flaming arrows.

It turned out Trinket had been painting her office when she had arrived. The witch gave her a tour of the first floor, pointing out where the gym would be – for now it was a bare room full of boxes – the pink guest room that she had yet to finish decorating, the completely redone bathroom and the office they were to work on. She described what she intended to do with it, where she was going to put the furniture and what kind of wood she had in mind, and Katniss couldn’t help but think it _would_ probably look good. In the end, Trinket steered her toward her bedroom, insisting on lending her some work clothes so she didn’t stain her own.

Her bedroom was red and it was a little shocking at first. Like in the living-room, the colors were mixed. Two walls were a deep shade of crimson and the other two were white, there were dark artworks on the white walls and lighter paintings on the red ones… The furniture was made out of gleaming brown wood, and there were touches of red and white everywhere in the room.

“It is a little daring.” Trinket admitted when she saw her gaping. “I _felt_ like having something daring but it might be a little too much…”

“It’s… pretty.” Katniss offered tentatively once she got used to it.

It would have looked tacky anywhere else, she suspected, like a brothel or something, but Trinket had made it look _classy_. She was starting to suspect she could make _everything_ look classy. She wasn’t sure it was a good thing.

She followed her into the walk-in closet that separated the bedroom from the bathroom and this time, she openly _gaped_. The color theme in there was clearly pastel green and creamy white. Rows upon rows of dresses, skirts, jackets, pants and tops hanged from carved in rails, all color coded so it looked like a giant rainbow, there was a small round bench seat cushioned in pale green velvet in the middle, a shoe display that took half a wall, holes in the cabinet where purses were exposed… Discreet pale green spirals had been painted on the cream colored wood of the cabinets. It wasn’t unlike the armory except this one had clearly been studied with a lot more love.

It looked like a shop.

Trinket laughed when she saw the expression on her face. “I am a little addicted to fashion.”

“A little?” Katniss repeated, incredulous.

She wasn’t really into shopping. She never had the money to indulge herself with pretty clothes and so she never even looked at that kind of stuff. She bought the cheapest pants and shirts she could find. Prim was more interested than she was and Katniss tried to get her something prettier from time to time than the secondhand stuff but… Her sister would probably have enjoyed being given run to play dress-up in this place even if she was too sensible to ever request it. 

She reached toward one of the sparkly dresses on her right and then dropped her hand halfway through, half sure it was _haute-couture_ and she would ruin it just by touching it. Trinket’s back had fortunately been turned to her and she missed the moment completely. She was rummaging through still unpacked boxes in the corner of the room. Katniss joined her, curious despite her best intentions.

“Here.” the teacher grinned in triumph, holding out a blouse that looked similar to the one she had on. _Expensive_ , in other words.

Katniss shook her head. “It’s okay. I can keep my clothes.”

“But you might stain them with paint.” Trinket argued. “Those are old rags.”

The things in the box looked nothing like _rags_ and Katniss scoffed. “You’re kidding, right?”

The witch frowned and then shook her head. “I am only keeping them until I am done with the renovations, they are out of fashion. I will give them away afterwards.” Her face brightened up suddenly. “Do you want to have a look? You are welcome to anything you’d like. Oh, I know!” And before Katniss could stop her, she dropped the blouse and started rummaging on one of the racks. “I do not think we are the same size but it should fit well enough and if it does not… Well, I might or might not have memorized a whole book about tailoring spells. Ah, _ah_! Here!” She held out a soft yellow dress. “Try it on!”

The dress looked more expensive than any piece of clothing Katniss had ever owned and, at first, she refused to even _touch_ it. Trinket wouldn’t take no for an answer though and she wasn’t happy until the Slayer was wearing it and was standing in front of one of the floor to ceiling mirrors in the walk-in closet. Trinket arranged her hair up and grinned.

“You look _splendid_.” the witch offered. 

She did look pretty. _Innocent_ , almost.

“You will keep it.” Trinket decided.

“But…” Katniss argued.

“No, no, no. I will _not_ hear otherwise.” The woman clucked her tongue. “The color does not suit me anyway. I do not know what I had in mind when I bought it. I will not miss it.” She gave her a nudge toward the boxes. “Have a look through that, if you wish. As I said, I am simply going to throw them away, they might as well find a second life…” Katniss opened her mouth to protest but Trinket didn’t give her time. “You have a younger sister, do you not? Perhaps you can find something in there she might like as well. I have a rather small build. It might fit. And, if not, I _do_ know a few spells as I told you…”

It was the weirdest training session Katniss had ever had. She did find herself going through the boxes, if only to make the woman stop harassing her about it. She was reluctant to try on or accept anything at first but Trinket was so casual about giving them out, like it truly did not matter that the clothes were obviously expensive, and she was so vocal every time Katniss found a piece that suited her really well that she ended up with an entire box full of clothes to take back home. Half of it was stuff she thought Prim might like.

It was a bit late by the time they were done but Katniss insisted on helping her with the painting as a payment of some kind – entirely unnecessary according to the teacher but she was reluctant to accept anything for free.

“Did you get a chance to have a word with your friend? Madge, was it?” Trinket asked after ten minutes spent painting in silence. The office was to be white and blue. Trinket was painting the white wall, Katniss was handling the blue one perched on the ladder.

“Not really.” Katniss shrugged. “She said she found her aunt’s diary a while ago but she didn’t know if it was real or not. She started getting suspicious a little after I was called but she was still not sure it was all real. Not until today..” She had seen her hide a stake in her locker a few days before the party at the Capitol. Apparently, Katniss hadn’t been as discreet as she would have liked. “That’s why she gave me her aunt’s pin, in the first place…”

“Would that be the bird brooch you sometimes wear?” Trinket asked. She confirmed and the witch let out a thoughtful hum. “So it used to belong to Maysilee… Did you know there is a spell on it? I can sense it. It is mostly faded though…”

“What kind of spell?” she frowned, a little worried. She had trusted Madge up until that talent show rehearsal but now… She didn’t know.

“A protection one. It is white magic, do not worry.” the woman dismissed. “I could look into it, if you wish, try to see if I can recast it.”

She wasn’t sure she wanted that but she didn’t see a polite way to tell her no either so she simply shrugged and continued with her explanation. “She didn’t know Haymitch was the same Haymitch from her aunt’s diary. And I guess… She said she didn’t mean to spook him. She sounded sorry.”

“The poor girl is not to blame, I suppose.” Trinket sighed. “It is not her fault she looks so much like her aunt.”

Katniss waited for the lecture about how she should do a better job at keeping the Slayer thing secret but it never came. Trinket seemed lost in her own thoughts and she almost left it at that. Almost. “Miss Trinket?”

The witch startled a little. “Oh… You can call me Effie, please. We are not at school.”

It was maybe a little more familiar than she cared to be with the woman but if Haymitch was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt… Maybe she should too. Magic notwithstanding.

“You’ve… studied Slayers, right?” she hesitated.

Trinket placed the paintbrush in the can of paint and wiped her hands together, looking at her with an inquisitive face. “ _Of course_. Do you have a question about your powers?”

“No.” She shook her head, dropping her own paintbrush. “I was just wondering… Haymitch never talks about…” There was no way to ask the question without it sounding like she was snooping behind her Watcher’s back but, at the same time, she really wanted answers. “Haymitch’s mother was a Slayer, right?”

Trinket studied her for a long moment and then nodded. “Yes. She was. Iris Abernathy. By all accounts one of the _finest_ Slayers of the last century. She is the first Slayer who truly made a difference against Snow. He killed her in the end but she hurt him badly enough that it took him _years_ to recover.”

Katniss didn’t like lingering on Snow too much. They had been waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Cashmere’s threats to take a more concrete turn… The prospect of having to fight a master vampire that had killed as many Slayers as he had… It wasn’t a joyful one.

“How old was he when…” she whispered, not even finishing her question.

“Iris had just given birth when she was called. An _accident_ , as I understand it. There is no father on record and her parents had kicked her out so Mags… Her Watcher…  Took her in with the baby.” She sighed. “Haymitch must have been five when she died, I believe. Perhaps six? I am not _quite_ sure.”

“And his brother?” Katniss insisted. “He said he had a brother but…”

“His brother…” Effie hesitated. “Are you _certain_ he would not answer your questions? I feel odd speaking about that. Although… Of course, it is not _a secret_. His life is _all over_ the Watchers journals.” She waved her hand in the air, dismissing her own objections. “I will stick to the broad lines, shall I? He can fill in the rest if he so wishes.” She paused and leaned her hip against the only place in the room that wasn’t covered in fresh paint: the window. “Are you familiar with Snow’s history?”

“I know he’s a master vampire which means he was sired by one of the last demons to walk the Earth…” she recounted. “Haymitch told me he was near unstoppable and he likes to think of himself as an emperor or something.”

“Yes, well…” Effie pursed her lips. “Unlike your typical demon, he did not want to trigger an apocalypse and bring the old ones back. He wanted to _rule_ Earth so it is no wonder he eventually ended up here on the Hellmouth. The town was his for centuries. He controlled most of the state, really. Not openly, of course, but… Let us just say people knew better than to come out at night.” She nervously played with one of the rings on her finger. “Snow liked games. _Arenas_. He captured people, demons, witches… Anyone he thought strong enough to give a good show. He built his empire on it. Monsters that old… They often go crazy. He grew obsessed with the idea of capturing a Slayer. A lot of his loyal servants deserted him at that point, afraid he would bring doom upon them all.”

Trinket, Katniss decided, had a way with words when she wasn’t simply chatting to fill the silence. She was riveted to the story even if the picture she painted was terrifying.

“When Iris was called on the Seam, the Council took it as a sign.” Effie continued. “A rogue Slayer right on the Hellmouth…”

“Rogue?” Katniss frowned. Her frown only deepened once the Watcher had explained the whole concept of _Potentials_. The idea that the Council gathered girls from all around the world, some of them babies, just because they could possibly one day turn into a Slayer… It was _chilling_. She understood better why Haymitch didn’t like them. “Why didn’t they send another Slayer before? I mean if it was _that_ bad…”

“Because they knew none of them would be a match against Snow and they were unwilling to sacrifice them on a suicidal mission.” Effie answered. “You _have_ to understand… Lately… And when I say lately, I mean the last century or so, we have been out of luck with Slayers. A lot of us fear the balance has tipped toward evil. Slayers survive one year, two at most and then get killed.” Katniss flinched and Effie immediately reached out to squeeze her shoulder. “Haymitch has _the best_ survival rate of all Watchers. Johanna Mason reached her twentieth birthday. His Slayers… They survive the odds.”

“But not forever.” Katniss snorted. She gently shrugged her hand off and folded her arms in front of her chest. “Okay. So how does that relate to Haymitch’s brother?”

“In her second year as a Slayer, Snow captured Iris and tossed her in that arena.” Effie explained. “She defeated her opponents, managed to start a rebellion and eventually escaped. According to Mags’ journal she came back to the house, worse for the wear and with a baby in her arms. She claimed to have found him amongst the few humans Snow kept in the arena as fighters and food. Mags told me later sending him to an orphanage would have meant sending him back to Snow. He liked eating children.” Effie, at least, seemed to share her disgust. “So… They kept him.”

“And what happened to him?” she asked. “He said he died.”

“Snow turned him. A little before Mabel Larson’s death, I believe.” Effie answered. “Tormenting Haymitch had become a twisted game of his at some point down the line. I think Haymitch was the one who staked Hayden but I am not sure. The journals are laconic about that and the subject was painful for Mags so I never pried for the details.”

It was horrible.

She imagined herself having to stake Prim and… She hugged herself tighter.

“And Mabel…” she insisted. “She was his girlfriend, right? She was another Slayer.”

“Mags’ third Slayer and her last, yes.” Effie confirmed. “As for her relationship with Haymitch… He will tell you about that himself if he so wishes. It is an open secret but… _Still_. I do not feel comfortable discussing his love life.”

Which told her everything she needed to know, really.

“And he became a Watcher despite… everything?” she murmured. He had lost his mother, his brother and his girl to this life and still he…

“Oh, it didn’t happen _right away._ ” Effie objected. “After Mabel… Mags decided they needed to leave, go back to England. I think she was trying to _protect_ him, really. With Iris gone, Haymitch was the next best thing. Snow liked toying with him, he was a little obsessed… Old creatures are not that _sane_ , he played a game of cat and mouse and Haymitch proved to be an apt mouse. But sooner or later, he would have tired of it and killed him. Mags knew that but Haymitch had other ideas.”

“He wanted to stay and fight.” Katniss guessed.

“Perhaps.” the witch offered. “I do not know the specifics. All I know is that when he was almost seventeen, he skipped town with another demon hunter and they spent a while doing freelance jobs. Then Mags managed to convince him to come back and had him enrolled in the Watcher Academy. He graduated in record time and was chosen to be the new Slayer’s Watcher when a rogue one appeared in the Seam – Maysilee. It is my understanding that Mags refused the assignment so he was the one with the most experience about the town and Snow. It seemed like fate, I suppose.”

There was a real touch of respect to Effie’s voice and Katniss realized she _genuinely_ admired him.

“Then, of course, he came back here and there was Maysilee… The Slayer who died stopping Snow.” Effie concluded. “You can imagine why he would be so… _upset_ about her memory.”

“I guess.” she answered. It was a lot of information and a lot to think about. She almost wanted to cross the street to give Haymitch the hug he so obviously needed but she knew he wouldn’t appreciate it. And he could be nasty when he was drunk. She glanced at the window and noticed the darkening sky. “I need to get going. I have to go home to check on Prim before I go on patrol.”

“Oh, give me five minutes to change and I will drop you off.” Effie offered. “I should go with you on patrol.”

Katniss winced. “It’s not necessary.”

“Are one of your boys coming with you?” the woman challenged.

“They’re not my boys and I _don’t_ need them.” she cringed. “I can handle myself.”

“Well, of course, you can.” Effie huffed. “You are _the Slayer_. I simply meant you might enjoy some company.” The woman frowned and placed her hands on her hips in a very displeased pose. “Have those boys been hinting you are _not_ capable?”

Katniss stared at her, looking for the deceit and then realized Effie was _not_ lying. She one hundred percent believed that she could go out on patrol by herself and she was simply offering to keep her company. The fact that she could probably set a vampire on fire if things got out of hands was simply an added bonus.

“Fine.” Katniss granted, simply because she was tired of feeling Gale’s worried eyes on her back and she could have used some _positive_ support. “Come along.”

“Great!” Effie beamed. “It will be a girls night! Oh, where did I put my leather pants…”

It didn’t take her five minutes to change but closer to half an hour. Katniss didn’t see why she needed high heels and a sparkling top to go hunting vampires but in the last couple of weeks she had learned not to question her patrolling outfits. Haymitch spent half the time mocking her about it anyway to the point she had developed the suspicion he just brought the woman along as a distraction.

She wasn’t very happy to let Effie inside the trailer but she needed to check up on Prim and while the witch seemed resigned to wait in the car, it seemed a bit harsh after the time they had just spent together. She was _extremely_ reluctant though, particularly after she had seen what her house looked like, but if Effie was shocked or troubled by the modest interior, she didn’t let on.

Katniss suspected her manners didn’t allow it.

Prim was delighted to meet her though and not short of questions about magic. She was even more thrilled once Katniss told her about the box she had brought in. Effie looked so happy at the warm welcome that she even stopped acting so uptight to laugh along with the twelve year-old. She also tossed curious glances at the closed door of their mother’s bedroom but was too polite to ask the obvious question.

“Why so glum?” Effie asked, after they had left again and were on their way to the cemetery.

She deliberated between answering or not and then shrugged. “Gale will probably be there and he will shoot _all_ the vampires. Again.”

Effie glanced at her and then pointedly turned the car left, on the opposite direction of the graveyard. “How about we patrol through town instead? I know Haymitch prefers keeping the fledgling population under control but there are plenty of vampires to be found in dark alleys.”

She had never thought about that. They focused their patrols around the cemeteries and the woods.

Who knew Effie Trinket could actually teach her some things?

As it turned out, it was slightly different to fight vampires in the streets and in narrow alleys but she saved a few people and she had the gratifying feeling of actually _making a difference_ once they both decided to call it a night. The witch made a few remarks about her fighting style that she took under consideration, which seemed to make her happy.

She still wasn’t sure she liked Effie Trinket.

But girls night wasn’t as terrible as she had feared it would be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Katniss is learning to like Effie quirks and magic and all... What did you think about the glimpses in Haymitch's backstory? I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know!


	3. Chapter 3

Haymitch was slumped on a plastic chair at the very back of the auditorium, regretting most of his life choices. It was a hobby he had become very good at. Presently, though, he was brooding about how stupid he must have been that morning to beg Trinket for a ride to school. Or maybe he had just been desperate. The headache and the hangover _still_ hadn’t eased yet so he really hadn’t been in any place to ride his bike and since he had already missed work the previous day – not that Plutarch had minded given his fainting spell the day before that – he had dragged himself into the shower and then across the street.

Trinket, as it had turned out, had not only looked relieved to see him but had given him a _running commentary_ all the way to the high school about the _great_ bonding moments she and Katniss had shared the two previous days to the point he had almost regretted sending his Slayer over to her two days in a row. When he had asked her if she could kindly _shut up,_ she had started briefing him about the talent show. Eventually, he had figured out her high-pitched chatter was her idea of a punishment for leaving her alone to deal with everything.

The whole day had been _hell_. It had dragged by and he had given up on the idea of actually teaching to show each of his class ready-made documentaries. The kids didn’t mind a nap in front of a boring video and neither did he.

It had done him little good though.

He popped another pill in his mouth, hoping that one would be the one to kill his headache, and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the awful sound of the kid currently playing guitar on stage. Trinket’s shouts over the noises he hesitated to call _music_ weren’t helping.

The students, at least, had learned to leave him alone after he had yelled at Glimmer loud enough that she had burst into tears. Maybe he shouldn’t have but the cheerleader’s constant whining that it wasn’t fair that Trinket had given the best performing spot – apparently, performing last was _the best thing in the whole world_ – to Livia who was simply doing a ballet demonstration had irritated him to death. Another popular girl with a ego huge enough to fill a room and who could complain like no other. The argument had swollen until he had lost his already frail temper. Did he look like he cared who performed when? He just wanted the dreadful thing to be over.

Glimmer had wailed on Marvel’s welcoming shoulder, Livia had sauntered away triumphant and _he_ had been ordered to sit and be quiet by a very irritated Art teacher. He didn’t see what she was upset about. He had said _her_ word was final. She should have been happy to have his support at all. It wasn’t his fault she was running herself frayed by getting too involved in a stupid talent show nobody expected to be great anyway.

But, with her, everything _had_ to be great. _Grand_. _Fabulous_. Anything less than perfect wouldn’t do.

He rubbed his face and tried to doze off but the lingering presence at his side was setting off all his alarms and since the student wouldn’t be ignored, he opened his eyes and glared. Only to freeze when he recognized Maysilee’s niece.

Now that he was over his shock, he could see the differences. There were many but none was glaring. If you weren’t looking for them, she could have passed for Maysilee’s exact copy.

He forced himself to relax, mostly because the kid was squirming on the spot.

“I wanted to apologize.” She rushed the words out in a shy voice. “I didn’t know… I didn’t mean to upset you the other day.”

“Hardly your fault, sweetheart.” he pointed out.

Madge’s lips stretched into a relieved smile. She glanced at the empty chair next to him but, when he didn’t invite her to sit down, she kept on nervously swaying on the spot. “I… My mom never talks about her.” Her mom, from what he had heard through the grapevine, had never really recovered from the loss of her twin. He remembered her mother like a bright girl, a lively – and lovely – one. She had stayed lovely and she had remained bright but she had buried her liveliness in the ground along with her sister. Madge took a deep breath. “I was hoping you would.”

The request took him aback even if it wasn’t such a surprising one. He was a direct source of information on her aunt and she wanted to know more… Katniss had told him about the diary she had found, she must have had a lot of questions…

But talking about Maysilee? Explaining _everything_?

“I don’t know.” he said honestly. He wasn’t sure he would be able to do it, never mind to someone who looked so much like her. “I’ll think about it.”

He was saved from having to say anything more by the piercing scream that did nothing to help his headache. Still, his body moved before his mind even registered it, and he ran in the direction of the distressed shout. Katniss beat him, of course, and Hawthorne and Peeta were hot on her heels. Trinket arrived a few seconds after him with a crowd of curious students and grabbed his arm to steady herself. Apparently, she could fight in heels but running in a high school hallway required help. That, or maybe he wasn’t the only one who had _temptation_ problems but he didn’t have time to ponder the thought because Livia was standing in the middle of the corridor, hiding her face behind her hands and _screaming_ her head off.

“What is wrong, dear?” Trinket worried, reaching out for the girl’s arm. “Are you hurt?”

It took a while and a lot of negotiating before Livia accepted to lower her hands. Haymitch tried to shoo the other kids back into the auditorium, half certain all the fuss was over a spot or something – he _hated_ the drama the popular kids always got up to – but the students were too curious and resisted his attempts. And, then, of course, Trinket got her to show her face and everyone gasped and screeched, a few laughed, a few immediately took pictures…

Haymitch turned to see what the problem was and could only stare, wide-eyed, at the huge warts that covered her cheeks, forehead and nose.

“Everyone back in the auditorium.” Trinket’s voice was hard and authoritative. “Put these phones away. If I hear about or see _one_ picture circulating I will make sure you have detentions until the summer holidays, are we clear? Haymitch.”

The order was obvious and while he scowled in her direction to let her know he didn’t like being bossed around, he _did_ shoo the students back in the room with a  little more strength. He didn’t even try to tell Katniss, Peeta and Hawthorne to go back though. 

“She needs a doctor.” Trinket declared once they were all alone in the hallway. Livia had gone back to hiding behind her hands and sobbing her heart out. “Gale, please, run and fetch the nurse. Katniss, Peeta, inform Principal Heavensbee if you would.”

The kids ran in different directions to obey her orders and Haymitch took advantage of that to try and take a closer look. “Doesn’t sound really natural…” Warts on a Hellmouth, though? It could be anything from the signs of impending apocalypse to a beauty spell gone wrong. “Say, girl? You did something? Put something on your face?”

The teenager was too upset to answer and Trinket made soothing noises, waving him off. “We won’t get any answer until she is calmer. Please, can you go back inside and supervise? Show must go on.”

A few warts didn’t qualify as an emergency for him so he did go back inside, preferring to oversee the rehearsals than take care of a sobbing girl. Trinket had been running such a tight ship that he mostly only had to sit and watch while the kids followed the rehearsal schedule she had designed. Peeta, Katniss and Hawthorne only slipped back in the room after a long twenty minutes.

“Heavensbee is furious.” Katniss explained to him.

“Her parents are both on the town council.” Peeta winced. “I know because Mom’s too. They’re pretty influent.”

Hawthorne made a face that clearly expressed what he thought of wealthy people and their problems. Haymitch might have approved if he hadn’t been so instinctively opposed to that boy’s opinion.

It was a while longer before Trinket managed to escape Plutarch and his questions. She immediately put an end to rehearsals and waved everyone out, looking both exhausted and irritated. For the third time, he regretted having ridden to school with her. She spent the whole drive home venting about how Plutarch had made it look like _her_ fault as if she had the power to prevent warts from appearing on someone’s face – to be fair, she probably _did_ but the principal couldn’t know that.

He had never been so happy to escape her presence than when she stopped the car in her driveway.

He closed his front door and told himself he was glad for the silence in his own house. He tried to tidy up a little the result of the previous day’s binge and then simply gave up. It took all his will not to drown himself at the bottom of a bottle, as it was.

He was glad when Katniss showed up for her daily training even if she kicked his ass flat on the gym mats every time. She was really becoming good and he could already see the shape of the great Slayer she could be. Assuming she survived the Careers and whatever they were planning to do… He let her go home a little before dinner with instructions to check in with him after patrol so he knew she wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere.

He took the books outside and read on the back porch for some fresh air, hoping to find more information on the elusive Careers. He had given up on the Watchers journals and had started hitting less reliable records. He had just _finally_ found a brief mention of Enobaria when he heard the footsteps entering his backyard. It was overgrown with weeds and mined with holes because of the family of moles that seemed to find his garden the ideal home.

The night was a little cloudy but not enough that he didn’t smirk at the sight of Effie Trinket trying to pick her way through his unkempt yard with her heels and short skirt. She was ridiculous. And yet, he mused, letting his gaze trail over the apple mint green skirt and white and black blouse, she made ridiculous look good.

“Lost your way, sweetheart?” he called out when she was a reasonable distance away. He could just see her pinched face as she inspected the ground in front of her before each step.

“I knocked on your front door, you did not answer.” she retorted. He lifted the book in his hand as an explanation and let it fall back down while she sighed. “Yes, I surmise as much. I would understand your strange liking to reading outside better if it was warmer and if your back yard did not look like a wasteland.”

“I’m thinking it’s missing a rusty car. You know. To _really_ get that wasteland vibe.” he mocked. “Might put it on the front yard, though. Let you admire it every time you look through the window.”

She shot him a glare. “Don’t you _dare_.”

His smirk deepened. “Don’t _dare_ me unless you’re ready to deal with the consequences, Trinket.”

She tilted her head to the side, her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed, clearly deliberating taking him up on that. In the end, she started picking the safest path to his porch again. He was pretty sure she would insist on crossing through the house to get back to the street and he was already wondering if he would grant her passage or just force her to walk out the same way again. It depended on how much she annoyed him, he supposed.

“Are you planning to join Katniss on patrol?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I’m still trying to find out more about the Careers. No luck on your end?”

“I have been asking around my contacts at the Council but so far nobody can tell me anything of substance.” She sighed. “I am hoping that, perhaps, once she is recovered enough, Mags might have more information.”

He didn’t let himself linger on Mags. Mags was recovering as fast and as well as expected. She would be forever diminished and wouldn’t thank him for abandoning his Slayer and jumping on a plane, even if she was still too weak to get on the phone with him. Well, she _might_ thank him… But only after she had kicked his ass. 

_Fuck_ , but he missed Mags.

He had outgrown her guidance long ago – or, at least, he liked to think he had – but he still had made it his duty to check in with her every few weeks. She was the closest thing he had to a mother and he loved that old lady fiercely.

“Well, I found out Enobaria never shifts back to her human face.” he offered. “She likes her fangs too much, apparently. That’s the only thing we’ve got so far. Won’t help us.” He tossed the book to the side and rubbed his face. “You’re _sure_ they will show up? It’s been close to two months since Katniss dusted Cashmere.”

“I am not _sure_ of anything.” she protested, finally reaching the porch. She stood right in front of him. He might have minded looking up at her if it hadn’t been such a nice view. “But it does sound likely. If anything, they will want Cashmere avenged.” She hesitated before letting out another sigh. “I should not tell you because it is not certain but my contacts tell me Gloss was spotted in Northern Ireland a couple of weeks ago. He was after a book.”

“Hell portals for dummies?” he guessed.

“A book that describes an ancient ritual.” she added. “It is all I know so far, nobody can give me more details. But if we believe Cashmere, their objective is clear. Perhaps they separated… If Cashmere was scooting here and Gloss was looking for that book… It is possible Enobaria and Brutus are searching for other things to help them complete the ritual.”

That sounded probable enough. And it was really bad for their case.

He would contact Chaff, he decided, see if his best friend could track them down. It would, at least, give them an idea of where the Careers were and possibly a timeframe to prepare for their arrival.

“You ever thought about what your life’d be like if you weren’t stuck fighting evil?” he snorted. He had tried to sound flippant but he simply ended up sounding tired.

He _was_ tired.

And not just because he had spent twenty-four hours swallowing all the liquor in his house. It just sounded so… futile. They had stopped Snow at greater prices than he could name. It should have been the end of the story. Heroes riding in the sunset and bad guys dead in the ground. Instead the heroes were dead and the bad guys lived on.

Maysilee’s niece wearing his first Slayer’s face hadn’t helped that feeling.

“I would have become a model.” she answered immediately, too quickly for her not to have pondered the thought before. Perhaps as many times as he had. “I would have been _extremely_ famous. I would have worn glamorous dresses, go on red carpets every day and have _scandalous_ affairs with men half my age. It would all have been…”

“ _Fabulous_.” he teased, tugging on the hem of her skirt.

He hadn’t really meant anything by it. He just liked annoying her. He suspected if they had been children, he would have spent his time pulling her pigtails.

Her dreamt life was a silly one. On par with her personality, though. And she was definitely beautiful enough to _be_ a model, she was smart enough to manage it too.

“Exactly.” she grinned, batting his hand away with a mischievous smile. “What about you?”

He studied her face for a moment and then leaned back on his hands, tilting his head up toward the cloudy sky. He could barely guess at the stars that night. “Sad thing is… There’s never really been a choice for me.”

Not unlike a Slayer, he hadn’t really had a say. He had been born into this life, had grown up carrying knives and stakes, had learned to fight watching his mother train even before he had learned to walk… Mags might have supported him if he had chosen an entirely different path but it had never even occurred to him that there _was_ a life outside of demon slaying. _Normal_ wasn’t for him. It just had never been in the cards.

“Mine was made for me.” Trinket commented slowly.

She averted her eyes when he glanced at her, uncomfortable to have given so much away maybe. He draped himself in his sarcasms but he had the feeling _she_ used her cheerfulness as a wall to keep the rest of the world at a distance. He had lost his mother young and then his brother and his girlfriend but he had _had_ them before they died and Mags had never let him down. He had lost his family but _they_ had never given him up. He wondered how that must feel to be given up like that, to be told that you are now a potential Slayer and that you not only had to leave your old life behind but that, if you were Chosen, you would probably not survive more than a few years, to be offered in tribute on a sacred altar. Being handed over like you didn’t matter… It couldn’t be fun.

Maysilee had sort of given up on her family too. To protect them. She had kept her twin at arm length and he knew that had pained her more than anything else because they had been inseparable before she had been Called.

 “You’ve got copies of the Watcher’s journals?” he asked and when she nodded with a  small frown, he clarified. “Even Maysilee’s?”

Understanding flashed on her face. “You want to give a copy to the Undersee girl? The end is… A little gruesome.”

He hadn’t been in a good place when he had written an account of Maysilee’s final battle. He hadn’t spared details and he hadn’t been shy of expressing how utterly _shitty_ the whole situation had been. If the Council had allocated more resources, if there had been more help, if they had chosen a more experienced Watcher to begin with, if he had done better, been quicker, if…

“She wants to know.” he shrugged. “I can’t tell her.”

She watched him for a moment, he felt the weight of her gaze on him but he kept his face tilted to the sky. “Would you mind if I redacted some of the details out?”

He shook his head. “Go crazy.”

“You should not feel guilty over her death.” she offered in a soft uncertain voice. “I have read your journals more times than I can count. There is _nothing_ you could have done differently.”

That was a matter of opinions. He had been responsible for Maysilee. However he didn’t feel like explaining that to her.

The wind picked up and he caught a whiff of her perfume. It was musky with a touch of something fruity, probably expensive… Extremely intoxicating.

It left him parched for something that wasn’t alcohol.

He brushed his fingertips against the side of her leg slowly, leaving her plenty of time to run away if that was what she wanted. They had agreed it wouldn’t happen again. They had agreed that… _He_ had insisted that it would never happen again.

“Anything I can do for you, Haymitch?” she asked, the humor clear in her voice.

“Don’t suppose you could make me forget my whole shitty life for a while?” he half-joked, letting his hand slide behind her thigh.

“Memories spells _are_ tricky.” she hummed, dropping her head to the side, a smile on her lips.

He tugged on her leg and she stepped closer until she was towering over him, one foot on either side of his. “There are different kinds of magic.”

She giggled. It should have been ridiculous for a grown woman to giggle but with her it simply sounded endearing. “You _are_ relapsing.”

“Seems so.” he shrugged, his fingers tracing a burning path up the back of her thigh. He lingered at the hem of her skirt but when she didn’t protest he continued on his way up, delighted to realize whatever she had on under that skirt, it wasn’t panties. “Hard disease to get out of my system.”

“Any particular symptom?” she taunted.

“Yeah.” he snorted. “Sight of you makes my pants _real_ tight. Worse when you try to boss me around.”

She grinned. “Oh, Haymitch, I do not _try_ to boss you around…”

He had time to determine her underwear was most likely a thong before she sat down on his lap, straddling him. It wasn’t his favorite position, he didn’t like not being in control, but it felt so good to have her pressed on him like that that he kept his tongue. All the more so when she deliberately added pressure where he needed it, his eyelids fluttered close but he fought it even as his head dropped back a little. He wanted to watch her, the mischievous grin on her lips, the spark in her blue eyes, the shadows the dark night tossed on her face…

It was stupid to play that game outside where any passing vampire could attack…

And yet, it added to the thrill…

Maybe because he knew no normal vampire was a match against the two of them.

“I may have relapsed myself.” she confessed, biting down on her bottom lip.

“Symptoms?” he asked, his hands slowly running up her legs and to her sides. It had been so rushed the last time, eager and rough with need. He wanted to take his time, that night. He wanted to take her to the edge and back just to torture her a little. He wanted to watch her come apart on his tongue. He wanted a lot of things. _Temptation_. Once you got a taste…

“Your voice makes me _embarrassingly_ wet.” she whispered, covering the hands he had placed on his sides. She guided one of them between her legs.

The kiss they shared next was more teeth and tongue than anything else.

Temptation.

He didn’t even try to resist it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is there magic afoot or is it just Haymitch being bewitched? Let me know your thoughts!


	4. Chapter 4

“Why are you avoiding Peeta and Gale?” Prim asked, in a serious tone that meant troubles.

Katniss groaned and rolled her eyes, not particularly surprised by the question. She had been dodging it for a while now and with her sister perched on the couch behind her while she sat on the floor so Prim could do her hair, there was no running away from it.

“I’m not avoiding them.” she denied although that might have been a bit of a lie. Prim remained silent, clearly waiting for the whole story, her fingers deftly working on the braid. “Peeta is avoiding _me_. And Gale…” Gale was becoming annoying in his obsession to play knight in shining armor but that one she kept to herself. It felt disloyal. In the end, she just shrugged. “I don’t need them anyway.”

Prim hummed an unconvinced little noise. “Maybe Peeta thinks you like Gale better.”

“Gale is my best friend.” she pointed out.

“Gale doesn’t like that you’re the Slayer.” her sister argued with far more clarity than Katniss would have thought. But Prim had always been mature for her age, circumstances obliged, and she had always had a keen eye.

By reflex, Katniss glanced at their mother’s bedroom. The door was open but Aster was knocked out because of her meds. Her doctor had left another message on her phone about having her stay at a clinic for a while, insisting that it would help her recover a lot more than staying there…

She considered lying and pretending she didn’t know what Prim was talking about but if even her sister had noticed…

“He thinks he needs to protect me.” she snorted. “It’s insulting.”

“Maybe he liked you best when you needed his help.” Prim suggested. “Now you’re a superhero and he’s not.”

“I’m not a superhero.” she argued, scowling a little. “I’m just…”

“The Chosen One.” her sister mocked with such emphasis Katniss could _hear_ the capital letters.

“I’m not Harry Potter, little duck.” she teased.

“No.” Prim answered, a little more seriously. “You’re the Slayer and I think it’s _awesome_. Peeta _never_ said you couldn’t or shouldn’t do it.” True, but there was an odd tension with Peeta that she couldn’t really explain. Was he really in love with her like everyone said? Was that why he was avoiding her now? She missed him on patrol. He was funny and unlike Gale he didn’t treat her like she was made of glass. Prim wasn’t done though. She tied up the braid and placed her hands on her shoulders. “Don’t let Gale tell you what you can or can’t do. Even if you love him.”

She was uneasy with that word, always had been. The only person she knew for sure she loved was Prim. Everyone else… Everyone else had to come second to that.

“How did you become so wise?” she joked, hoping to make the conversation lighter.

“Internet.” Prim deadpanned. They laughed and then her sister wrapped her arms around her neck from behind. “Be careful on patrol.”

“I’m always careful.” she promised. “Don’t open the door and don’t let anyone in.”

Those instructions didn’t need to be given again. After the short hours she had spent as Cashmere’s hostage, Prim was more careful than ever. When Katniss shouldered her bow and walked out the door, she was very confident her sister would remain safe and sound during her absence.

She _wasn’t_ surprised when Gale fell into step with her as she was about to leave the trailer park.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asked, after five minutes of silence. Gale wasn’t someone who minded long silences so the question must really have bugged him.

“No.” she lied. She hadn’t gone out of her way to seek him out at school.

“I thought you’d patrol the cemetery but I haven’t seen you around for two nights, now.” he pointed out.

She didn’t like having to explain herself. She adjusted the strap of her quiver and sighed without much patience. “I was with Effie. She likes patrolling in town.”

Given that Haymitch had been unavailable again the previous day – a nice euphemism for _drunk_ – she had gone to Effie’s place again. They _had_ trained this time – well, mostly, Effie had tossed fireballs at her head in the backyard, forcing her to dodge and get close enough to engage her, up until Katniss could do it without getting singed – and the witch had offered to come around on patrol again so they had set off in the direction of the woods this time, so they would be able to loop by the Hellmouth on their way home. There _was_ something like too much quality time with Effie Trinket though and she was happy Haymitch was operational again. Training with him that afternoon had been great.

“Effie?” He made a face. “I thought we didn’t like her.”

_We_. Katniss didn’t want to be part of  a _we_. She was very content being an _I_.

“She’s not that bad.” she retorted, maybe a little too harshly. She didn’t like Effie _that_ much.

“She’s a witch!” he scoffed, incredulous.

“She’s part of my team.” she snapped, without thinking twice about it.

“I wasn’t aware we were a _team_.” he mocked. “Seems to me like we’re the ones doing the vampire cleaning while Abernathy makes moon eyes at her in the background. When they bother to show up at all.” Katniss gritted her teeth and quickened her steps. “Wait!” he called after her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“Yeah. You _did_.” she cut him off. “I don’t know what your problem with Haymitch is…”

Gale stopped walking and scowled, lifting his arms before letting them fall. “He did this to you. That’s my problem.”

Her jaw clenched. “ _He_ did nothing to me. Do you even listen when I explain stuff? Slayer powers don’t work that way. Fate…”

“Fate doesn’t exist.” he argued. “And if it does, I’m sure it can be cheated.”

He sounded too proud of himself for thinking of that option, as if she hadn’t wondered about it herself in her bed in the first few weeks after seeing her first vampire. But that was the coward’s way out and she couldn’t take it. Not when Prim was looking up at her with so much pride in her eyes. Her sister had decided she was a hero and so a hero she would be.

Heroes didn’t take the coward’s way out.

“I don’t want to cheat fate.” she snapped. “I am the Slayer. Deal with it or go home.”

She left him standing there, striding down the street that would take her to the cemetery with an angry scowl on her face. It didn’t fade when he eventually fell back into pace with her, mostly because he didn’t apologize or say anything more and she just knew the argument wasn’t over.

They made a quick sweep in the graveyard and killed a few vampires – not that it _was_ a competition but she managed to shoot them all before he could notch his arrows – and then she decided she would take the long way home by making a detour in the heart of town. She didn’t inform Gale of that and he didn’t ask what she was doing. He simply followed, silent and unshakable like a shadow.

Anger was stirring deep in her belly, increasing with every new step she took. When they ran into a group of four vampires coming out a dark alley, still in demon faces, she was almost happy to forego the bow to engage them physically. Gale lacked range and had to let her do most of the work and _that_ felt good even if the vampires weren’t a real challenge. She really was getting good at dusting them. Gale was seething by the time she staked the last one and she was certain he wanted to tell her she was taking too many risks.

She strode away before he could say anything.

She was becoming better at _feeling_ the presence of vampires, it was like tingles on her nape. There was, however, no tingles for demons and she hadn’t been expecting one to appear from behind trash bins in a deserted street not too far from the square. She didn’t dodge in time and found herself flying in the air, only remembering to curl up into a ball and roll to absorb the landing because of the long hours of training when Haymitch had made her fall again and again until she learned to land without breaking anything.

“Katniss!” Gale shouted.

She jumped on the demon before he could get it in his head to try to fight him himself. It was taller than a human would have been, only vaguely humanoid, his arms were longer than his body and he stood a little hunched over like a gorilla, his eyes glowed red and it was hairy. And strong. Very, very strong.

There was no skill to his fighting so she decided he wasn’t really smart. Some demons were clever, some were closer to animals, Haymitch had told her that much. This one clearly ranged in the second category.

It was only when he sent her flying again and she landed in the trash bins he had come out from that she spotted the body. It was a homeless woman with frizzy white hair and blue eyes that didn’t see anything anymore. She looked unhurt, no wounds that she could see, but she was very dead.

The demon let out a roar or something very close to it and she struggled to get out of the sea of upturned garbage and to reach Gale before he could get himself killed. He was shooting at the creature but the arrows seemed to glide away as if its fur was thicker than it looked.

She dropped the bow and the quiver so they wouldn’t bother her and took out her stakes before attacking it again.

“Get out of the way!” Gale ordered, still shooting the useless arrows.

She ignored him and kicked, dodged and stabbed. Focus was _paramount_. The problem was, the stakes wouldn’t pierce the skin. One of them actually broke and she tossed it away without a blink, to concentrate on _punching_. Her knuckles bled long before he tired. He flung his big arms around, roaring some more…. She managed to stab him in one of his red eyes. It might not have been much of a plan but she figured that if she pushed the stake deep enough it might pierce the brain and kill him. She might even have finished him if Gale hadn’t come at her from the side, pushing her away.

She hadn’t expected it and hit the pavement _hard_.

She _had_ been expecting the clawed arm aiming at her head and _would_ have avoided it however.

Gale didn’t.

All in all, it was lucky that she had managed to hurt the demon. With both of them on the ground, he fled. She would have pursued him if Gale hadn’t let out a pained moan.

“What the _fuck_ were you thinking?” she hissed, glancing around.

Lights were being turned on inside the nearby houses and she didn’t want to get caught next to a dead body and an injured classmate. She crawled closer to him to get a look at his wound. It was bleeding a lot, his leather jacket and his shirt were both torn from shoulder to elbow. That wasn’t the kind of scrapes they could patch in her kitchen, nobody the wiser.

“What were _you_ thinking?” he retorted. “That _thing_ was going to kill you!”

“No, it wasn’t.” she growled, shaking with fury. “I almost _had_ it. I was going to…”

“It was too strong.” Gale cut her off. “You couldn’t do it. You _can’t_ keep doing this. You _can’t_. This isn’t a comic book or a TV show. This is _life_. You’re going to get yourself killed. You _can’t_ do this.”

She opened her mouth to tell him just where he could shove his concern when he bundled the lapels of her jacket with his good hand and pulled her forward. Another thing she hadn’t been expecting that night: to be kissed for the first time.

She gave in to it for a second and then she shoved him back, even more furious than she had been a minute earlier if possible. She hauled him up to his feet, deaf to his pained gulps, grabbed their weapons, and dragged him away from the scene of the crime before people came out of their houses to investigate. She let go of him two streets away and let him slid down the dirty wall of a back alley while she rummaged through her pockets for the phone she didn’t always remember to carry around.

Prim had developed a habit of slipping it into her pocket though and thank god for that. 

She hesitated only a moment on who to call. She needed a car and the closest person with a car she knew was… not answering her call.

“Peeta!” she exclaimed when he finally picked up, just as it was about to go to voicemail. “I need help.”

There was a shaky intake of breath on the other side and then his steady reassuring voice. _“Okay. What can I do?”_

She glanced at Gale who wasn’t looking at her. His face was closed off, his lips a thin pained line and he was awfully pale. His arm was still bleeding too much.

“Some sort of demon attacked us. Gale is _really_ hurt. He needs to go to the hospital.” she said, her voice rising in panic.

“ _Okay_.” Peeta said again, with some urgency but in a calm tone that helped her keep her cool. “ _Tell me where you are. I’m on my way.”_

She gave him the address and then hung up, clutching the phone in her hand. She didn’t dare take a closer look at Gale’s wound. First because she had never been good with blood and then because she was a little afraid he would try to kiss her again.

“So, you’re in trouble and he’s the one you call…” he commented quietly, his voice a little faint.

“ _Shut up_.” she snarled. She was so furious. _So furious_. “This is all your fault.”

“Hunting vampires and demons wasn’t my idea of a new hobby.” he shot back.

She turned away from him and selected another number. Haymitch’s phone rang and rang… She closed her eyes, feeling close to throwing up with nerves. _Pick up,_ she silently begged, _pick up_. It went to the standard voicemail. She ended the call and peered at the end of the street, hoping to see Peeta’s truck appear under the pale streetlamps. Her phone rang before she had time to count to three.

_“Everything’s okay?”_ Haymitch asked without bothering with a hello.

That was such a stupid question that she almost started hysterically laughing. Instead she focused on the thing that caught her attention. “Why are you out of breath?”

There was a meaningful pause and then. “ _I was working out.”_  

“Why are you working out in the middle of the night?” she insisted. She could feel the tears burning her eyes and making her throat _itch_. Her voice wavered. He must have caught it.

_“Sweetheart, what’s wrong? You need back-up?”_  Haymitch said.

She summed up the whole thing as neatly and calmly as possible. “Peeta can take Gale to the ER and I can try to find this thing.”

_“No.”_ her Watcher refused. _“I’m not sending you after something we don’t know how to kill. Go to the hospital with the boys, I’ll meet you there, alright?”_

Peeta’s headlights finally pierced the night at the end of the street. He was driving fast and he braked hard right in front of her. She had the vague thought he had almost crashed the car again.

She watched him jump out of the truck and walk around it to grab her arms, his blue eyes traveling over her face, her body, looking for an injury…

“You’re alright?” he asked. “I’m sorry. I should have been there with you. I could have distracted it while you stab him or something…”

_That_ was such the right thing to say compared to Gale’s _you can’t do it_ that she threw her arms around his neck. He froze for a second and then hugged her back, his hand coming to rest at the back of her head.

“ _Shit_.” he cursed when he caught sight of Gale over her shoulder.

“Don’t mind me.” her best friend snorted. “I’m just bleeding out. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your _moment_.”

“ _Shit_.” Peeta repeated once he took a closer look. “Katniss, open the door.”

Gale wasn’t able to stay upright by himself anymore, Peeta had to carry him to the car and he slumped his head against the window as soon as he was sitting down. On Peeta’s request, she climbed on the backseat too and applied pressure on the wound while he drove recklessly fast to the hospital.

“I’m sorry.” Gale whispered, for her ears only.

She wanted to say he should be.

“Try not to die.” she replied. “That’s all the apology I need.”

Gale was taken away the moment they passed the ER’s doors. Katniss slumped on one of the plastic chairs in the waiting room, leaving Peeta to spin a story about an animal attack for the nurse on duty. When he eventually came to sit next to her, he took her hand without a word and she clung to it.

It was perhaps ten more minutes of tense waiting before Haymitch and Effie barged in the hospital. She surprised everyone and herself the most by jumping off the chair and straight into Haymitch’s arms. To his credit, her Watcher immediately hugged her back. 

“Ain’t your fault, sweetheart.” he offered quietly. “ _Shit_ happens. _Sucks_ but it’s like that.”

“ _Truly_. Would you _mind_ your language in front of the children?” Effie berated him. “Here, dear, let me have a look at you. Are you alright?”

She stepped back from Haymitch’s embrace only to be subjected to the same kind of visual inspection Peeta had done earlier. Her Watcher must have dragged Effie out of bed because the witch had clearly dressed in a hurry, her blouse was buttoned wrong under her open coat. The Art teacher considered a gash on her cheek with pursed lips and pressed her thumb on its length, muttering something under her breath that _really_ didn’t sound English. Next thing she knew, the gash was gone.

She gaped. “I should have brought Gale to you.”

Effie shook her head. “You were right to bring him here. I am not much of a healer.”

“You’d never be much of anything if we listened to you.” Haymitch mocked. “How can you be so arrogant about everything else and doubt your magic when you’re _clearly_ powerful?”

The witch glared at him and neglected to answer. She cleared her throat and patted Katniss’ shoulder. “I will go and see what I can find about Livia while we are here, shall I? Plutarch told me her parents brought her here, her doctor was concerned it was some kind of disease. Peeta, perhaps you could assist me.”

It wasn’t very subtle but Katniss was glad to find herself alone with Haymitch. When she slumped back on the chair and buried her face in her hands, he didn’t judge.

“Gale kissed me.” she blurted out. It wasn’t exactly the most important thing right then but she felt it needed to be said.

Her Watcher let out a long suffering sigh and rubbed her back distractedly. “What did I say about boys troubles?”

Her lips stretched into a smile despite the horrible night. “You don’t advise on boys troubles.”

“Right.” he approved.

“But you’re going to do it anyway.” she pointed out. “’Cause when you have an opinion, you’ve got to _share_.”

“I can keep my opinions to myself alright.” he retorted. “I’m just offering them to you free of charge in hope you start using your brain sometimes.” His voice lost the sarcastic edge and he took a second before continuing, which in her experience meant he was trying to find the right words – which didn’t bode well. “Ain’t gonna tell you how to live your life, sweetheart, but the Hawthorne boy…”

“I know you don’t like him.” she sighed.

“I don’t like the way he sniffs after you, no.” he confirmed. “This being said… I know the kind. He can’t accept who you are, what you’ve become. If he doesn’t get it into his thick skull soon that you ain’t some helpless girl in need of his protection, that you’ve _never_ been that, he’s gonna get himself killed. And you with him.” He let that sink in and moved his hand from her back to her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Most Slayers bear their burden alone. That’s the way it’s always been. It doesn’t have to be like that for you, that ain’t what I’m saying but… Some guys… Some guys feel threatened by who they are ‘cause they feel the need to be the strongest one in the room. Hawthorne… I think he’s one of these guys.”

“You weren’t.” she whispered. “Your girlfriend…”

“Mabel’d have kicked my ass all days to Sunday if I’d tried to pull what that boy did tonight. Then, she would have cut me loose.” he cut her off. “And that’s the last of her we’re talking about.”

The tone was definitive so she straightened and leaned against the wall at her back. “That’s what you want me to do? Cut him loose?”

He squeezed her shoulder again. “Ain’t telling you what to do.”

“Since when?” she snorted.

“Since _this_ ain’t my scene.” he replied with a shrug. “I’ve said my piece. There are plenty of boys out there who’d respect you for who you are. I sure know of one…”

He nodded in the vague direction of one of the hallways. Effie and Peeta were coming back toward them.

She elected to ignore that. He was the second person telling her Peeta was a better choice tonight and she still didn’t feel like she _wanted_ to choose.

“Do you think that demon killed the homeless woman?” she asked.

“Hard to say.” he sighed. “I’ll stop by the morgue in the morning. See if I can dig any info against a few bucks.”

“Well…” Effie exclaimed as soon as she was within hearing range. “The doctors cannot explain Livia’s warts.”

“Big shock.” Haymitch snorted. “That had _magic-gone-wrong_ stamped all over it.”

“Miss Trinket distracted the nurse while I stole the file.” Peeta told Katniss with a happy grin. “I feel like James Bond.”

Haymitch stood up and stepped closer to Trinket, a smirk on his lips. “Don’t tell me I missed you playing James Bond Girl… ‘Cause _that_ I’d have paid to see.”

“I am _very_ talented at distracting people.” Effie countered without batting an eyelash. “Flirting goes a _long_ way. Besides… She was cute and she gave me her number. All benefits.”

Haymitch’s eyebrows shot up at that declaration but then he licked his lips. “Might want to fix your blouse, Princess. We wouldn’t want anyone to think you’ve been up to no good with _nurses_.”

She looked down at her blouse and realized the predicament but she didn’t even look embarrassed. She just buttoned it the right way with an amused smile on her lips.

“No, we certainly wouldn’t want that, would we?” the witch hummed. 

Peeta’s gaze darted between the two of them and then he looked back at Katniss with open amusement. She failed to see what was so funny though. She didn’t really care if Effie liked girls, she wanted to find her demon and put it down.

They couldn’t get deeper into it though. Hazelle barged into the hospital, her younger children clinging to her, disheveled, looking pale and frightened. Haymitch immediately went over to her with a reassuring expression on his face. When the woman asked her what had happened, Katniss found herself mumbling a vague explanation about a huge animal she couldn’t identify. The woman left the kids with them and went straight to the nurse on duty.

It turned out Peeta was also good with young children. He spared Rory’s sensibilities by addressing him as if he was his equal even though the boy was the same age as Prim and making it sound as if the boy was actually the one in charge of his brother and sister, he had Vick wrapped around his finger in no time at all, as for Posy, she had declared she was going to marry him after only five minutes. Hazelle came back with reassuring news that helped Katniss breathe a little easier.

“We’re having an emergency meeting tomorrow after school.” Haymitch announced, once they had left the hospital. “We need to identify this demon.” It might have been a little more impressive if he hadn’t been leaning against the open door of Effie’s pink miniature car. He must have realized it because he glared at the other teacher. “I _hate_ your car. I told you we’d have been faster if…”

“I am _not_ getting on that bike.” she huffed, her eyes glancing down his body and back up as if he had professed the most horrendous comment. “It would wreck havoc in my hair.”

Katniss and Peeta exchanged a look and hid their smiles.

Somehow, she was sure Effie Trinket’s hair being in disarray must have been one of the signs of an impending apocalypse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo Gale ended up getting himself hurt. And stole a kiss. And now Haymitch HAS to give boys advices XD
> 
> Did you enjoy this chapter? Let me know!
> 
> Happy Easter!


	5. Chapter 5

The tension in Haymitch’s library was thick enough that it could have been cut with a knife.

Peeta kept to himself on his side of the table, a few books piled in front of him, trying to find a picture of the demon Katniss had described. The Slayer was sitting a few feet away from him on his right, her own stock of books open in front of her. She was scowling at the old yellowed pages so hard he wouldn’t have been surprised if they had caught fire. On Katniss’ right, at a greater distance, sat Gale. The boy was slumped in his chair, still looking pale and tired, deep dark bags under his eyes and his left arm strapped to his chest. He was skimming through a book too but it was obvious his head wasn’t really in the game. As for Haymitch, he was checking his own pile, regularly drinking from a mug of tea Peeta was pretty sure was spiked.

Gale kept tossing Katniss covert looks. Katniss glared harder at her book every time it happened. Haymitch glowered at his tea and regularly made it very clear through his groans that he was a very unhappy man – mostly because Katniss had _retold_ them the events of the previous night so they would know what to look for and he had ended up lecturing Gale about stupidity and unnecessary heroics for a good fifteen minutes. Gale hadn’t liked that but he had only snapped back a couple of times, apparently too tired to get into a real proper fight. Still, the tension was unbearable and Peeta was watching everyone, waiting for the whole thing to blow apart.

Truth be told, he blamed himself a little too. If he hadn’t pushed Katniss away, kept his distances… He had promised her he would be her sidekick and he had let her down. He was under no misconception that he could have stopped that demon but he could have helped a little more.

The worst part by far was that when she had called the previous night, a part of him had hesitated riding to the rescue. For a second, only. A heartbeat. But he _had_ hesitated because he had known he would get into more troubles. And he very well might still do.

He hadn’t been discreet enough when he had sneaked out, the urgency of the situation taking precedence on his need to stay out of his parents’ way. They had heard him go out and they had been there waiting when he had gotten home with Gale’s blood on his shirt. He hadn’t even tried to explain because there was never any point explaining himself. It never changed the end result.

His father, at least, had convinced his mother to go back to bed before she could really start getting angry. That morning, Peeta had made sure to leave extremely early, after his father had left for the bakery before dawn but before his mother got up to join him. He should have been there right now and he knew that missing a shift at the bakery without explanation on top of it all would prove to be reckless but… A part of him simply didn’t care anymore.

His mother had called him three times and had filled his voicemails with messages he hadn’t bothered listening to. He doubted she was worried about his whereabouts. His father had sent one text, asking if he was alright. That one he had answered after some deliberation. The reply he had gotten suggested he should maybe have a sleepover at one of his friends’ house that night so his mother had time to cool off.

He hadn’t bothered explaining he didn’t exactly have friends anymore. He used to crash at Cato’s or Marvel’s when he couldn’t do otherwise but now… It would be weird to ask Katniss. He could ask Haymitch, he figured, he didn’t doubt the Watcher would let him sleep on his couch but Haymitch was already suspicious something was wrong and…

“Boy.”

Peeta looked up at the sound of Haymitch’s voice and followed the teacher’s grey eyes to his own hand. It was bundled into a tight fist and to make matter worse, it was shaking. He forced himself to relax and ignore the curious looks of the other two teenagers in the room. He also ignored the man’s concerned gaze.

The tension rose up another notch.

All in all, it was a relief when they heard the front door opening, followed by the now familiar clicking of high heels.

“This is a disaster!” Effie exclaimed with real anguish before she was even in the room. “I cannot _believe_ this is happening! What are we to do?”

Haymitch was already half out of his seat when she finally came into view, wearing a weird green dress with a large golden belt. “The Careers?”

The worry in his voice was palpable.

Effie frowned and waved her hand in dismissal. “No. Take your head out of the occult for a second. I am talking about the talent show! Can you _believe_ that now, not only Livia will not be performing… Not that I can blame her, poor thing, I would not be caught _dead_ in public with warts on my face either… But _just_ when I told Fanny she should take her spot, she went and broke her leg? I do not even know _how_ she managed it! One second she was standing, the next she was on the floor twisting in pain.” She took a deep breath and let it out in an upset huff. “I _do_ suspect someone is playing with magic at school, Haymitch, and we need to stop them before they destroy my show! I am lacking two performers and a closing act now!”

They were all gaping at her but if she noticed she didn’t let on.

They had all skipped the talent show rehearsal to get a move on the researching but the Art teacher _had_ to go.

“A woman is _dead_.” Katniss reminded her in a hiss.

“Oh?” Effie asked with polite interest. “Are we certain it was the demon’s doing, then?”

“No.” Haymitch cut in, still watching her as if she was completely crazy. “No organ missing, no trace of mauling. There were scratches but nothing like what Hawthorne got out of the fight.” He made a mocking face. “ _Still_ a little more important than a stupid school show.”

Effie pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him so bad they almost looked like slits. “A talent show _is not_ stupid. All the more so if _my reputation_ is on the line.”

Haymitch looked at her as if she had grown a second head and Peeta was pretty sure the Watcher was done being polite about this so he cleared his throat. “We could use some help with research?”

“Oh, naturally!” Effie flashed him a grin and took a seat at the table but not before fishing an Ipad out of her purse. “You will excuse me I like to live in my own century. Why pore over musty old books when I can have them all under my fingertips?” Haymitch opened his mouth with an offended expression but she either ignored him or had anticipated the retort because she was quicker and didn’t even stop to breathe. “Have you checked Claudius Templesmith’s _Daemonium Glossary_ , Haymitch?”

“No.” Haymitch sneered. “’Cause it’s my first rodeo as a Watcher and I need you to tell me how to do my job.”

“How big of you to admit it.” she hummed.

Peeta looked up from his book again, amused by the exchange. He glanced at Katniss but she was rolling her eyes, apparently missing the playfulness under the banter.

“Ain’t you just _chirpy_ today.” the History teacher scoffed.

“I had an _excellent_ night.” Effie grinned. “Well… Aside for the trip to the hospital. I _do_ hope you are feeling better, Gale?”

Gale startled, having not expected to be called out. He nodded and mumbled an affirmation and then kept on reading – or pretending to.

From time to time, one of them would point an illustration out to Katniss and Gale and ask if that was the demon in question but for the most part of half an hour, there was no progress. Until Katniss, who had slumped on the table at some point and was now flicking pages over without energy, suddenly bolted upright, clutching the book closer.

“This one.” she said. “It was this one. I can’t read that name.”

Peeta leaned in to take a look and the name had far too many vowels and consonant in it, something German perhaps. Something none of them could say without sounding like idiots – at least until Effie took a look and uttered it without faltering, the sound flowing so naturally out of her mouth you would have thought it was her mother tongue.

“A wish demon.” Haymitch muttered, taking the book from Katniss.

“They do not in live in this dimension and can only cross if they are summoned. They drain life force in exchange for their wish. A person’s remaining years if you will.” Effie added, without checking the book. “Rarely the caster’s, which is a plus if you do not mind being responsible for someone being dead.” Faced with four pairs of eyes that ranged from incredulous to suspicious, she lifted her hands in the air. “ _I_ obviously do.”

“Explains the homeless woman, at least.” Haymitch added. “He just stole the rest of her life from her and she just… died.”

“Why didn’t he do it to us, then?” Gale asked.

“’Cause it’s one life for one wish.” The Watcher shrugged. “Fair trade.”

Katniss frowned. “Depends for whom.”

“Yeah.” Haymitch agreed. “And it doesn’t mean, that demon ain’t gonna maim someone in the meantime. They ain’t exactly bright.”

“But you said it had to be summoned.” Peeta cut in. “That means someone’s responsible.”

“Then we kill the demon and after that we stop _them_.” Katniss declared.

“If they’re human, you can’t kill them.” Haymitch warned and, at Katniss’ begrudged face, he made one of his own. “Yeah, I know the feeling. But that’s a ground rule for you: if any human really needs to be killed... I’m gonna do it.”

“No, you are _not_.” Effie countered, uncharacteristically serious. “The Council do _not_ condone murder.”

“Oh, please.” Haymitch scoffed. “Do not give me the party line. That’s _bullshit_ and you know it.”

Did she? Peeta couldn’t tell. Her face was blank.

“How do we find the witch or wizard?” he asked, half hoping it would involve some magic of their own. He was eager to see more of Effie’s magic. He _was_ a little intrigued and the fact that most of the books agreed almost anyone could cast a spell was appealing. You needed inner magical power to become powerful but basic spells were accessible to anyone. He liked that. A lot.

Effie’s long silver and pink nails drummed on the round wooden table thoughtfully and then she looked at Haymitch who was staring at the book, clearly thinking. “Do you agree with me?”

Given that she hadn’t ventured any theory aloud, Peeta wasn’t sure how he could but, surprisingly, he nodded slowly. “That’s sloppy work. We’re looking at an amateur. Maybe someone who doesn’t even know what they’ve done. Thought they were having some fun and ended up with a demon.”

“Why?” Katniss asked. “Why do you think that?”

“The demon is on the loose.” Effie explained. “That sort of demon… Anyone with a little experience with magic would have summoned it inside a restrictive circle and kept him there. Feed him instead of letting it wander. Less dangerous, more contained.”

“The magical incidents at school.” Peeta said suddenly. “Livia’s warts and… You said Fanny broke her leg?”

Again, the two Watchers exchanged a look.

“Possible.” Haymitch eventually commented.

“Someone _wished_ Livia would get a few spots and Fanny would break her leg?” Katniss scoffed, incredulous. “ _Why_? I mean if you can wish for _anything…_ I’d want… I’d want my father back. And money.”

“ _Never_ try to bring back the dead, dear.” Effie warned quite firmly. “Not with a wish, not with a spell,  not with _anything_. What is dead should _remain_ dead.”

The warning sounded ominous and Katniss was glaring at her a little so Peeta cleared his throat again. “I wouldn’t mind being a few years older.”

“Ask that of a wish demon and you’re gonna find yourself a hundred.” Haymitch shook his head. “You’ve never read any fairytales? Wishes never turn out the way you want them to. That kind of magic always comes with a price.”

That wasn’t quite how Disney had spun it, Peeta mused.

“ _All_ kind of magic always comes with a price.” Effie corrected softly. She lifted her hand and summoned a fireball. It flared in her palm, so warm Peeta could feel it from where he was sitting. She made it look so easy though… “Magic feeds on me, like any muscles would. It requires energy, focus and strength. With training, it is perfectly safe, a tool like any other but…”

“Swallow more than you can chew and you will end up dead very fast.” Haymitch finished when her sentence trailed off. “Which is why I don’t like doing that kind of stuff myself.”

“It can be addictive and it can be hard to find one’s limits.” the witch agreed, making the fireball disappear with a twist of her wrist. It really was a neat trick.

“Okay.” Katniss interrupted, obviously bored with the magic lesson. “So you think someone’s at school is playing with magic?”

“I think someone at school played at reciting an incantation and did not expect it to work.” Effie confirmed. “A little like saying _Bloody Mary_ three times in front of a mirror – which, for the record, I _highly_ advise against on a Hellmouth.”

Peeta’s stomach twisted in a very bad way and he started feeling a little sick. He looked at Gale but the boy didn’t glance at him at all.

“So you think Livia and Fanny were accidents?” he clarified. “Whoever did this just… thought they wished them to have warts and break a leg in the moment and… It happened?”

“It’s possible.” Haymitch granted. “They may not have been specific targets. Let’s say the caster thought ‘I wish someone broke a leg so we could get out of here quicker’… It’d do the trick. That kind of magic… Can be really unstable.”

Effie frowned. “Who would think that sort of things?”

“Probably best _I_ didn’t summon a wish demon.” Haymitch smirked.

“So, they wouldn’t have had to be at school this afternoon?” Peeta insisted. “It could have just… been _anyone_ instead of Fanny?”

“It _is_ a little suspicious someone gets hurt every time I give them the star spot.” Effie countered.

But Peeta’s gaze had turned back to Gale once more. And Katniss was picking up on it.

“What’s going on?” the girl asked.

Gale _finally_ met his eyes and Peeta swallowed hard, thinking back to the conversation they had had a few days ago. The nagging suspicion wouldn’t go away.

“Did you do something?” he confronted at last.

Gale’s face closed off into a scowl. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know _exactly_ what I mean.” Peeta accused. “You wanted to use magic. Did you try something?”

“Use magic?” Katniss repeated, folding her arms in front of her chest. “What for? You said magic was _evil_.”

“Magic is _not_ evil!”Effie exclaimed with a huff. “How _preposterous_!”

“Magic for what?” Haymitch growled at the same time.

Gale was glaring at him but Peeta couldn’t even begin to care. If the other boy had been stupid enough to summon a wish demon without reading the fine prints…

“I didn’t do _anything_.” Gale snapped. “And magic _is_ unnatural.”

“Unnatural does _not_ equal evil.” Effie hissed. “What does it even _mean_? _Unnatural._ That is a deeply offensive term.”

“He asked me if I thought we could use magic to transfer Katniss’ Slayer powers to someone else.” Peeta confessed and it felt good because it had never sat right with him in the first place. And, also, maybe because he really hadn’t liked the sneaking around Gale had forced him to take a part in.

“What?” Katniss asked in a blank voice.

Effie gasped.

Haymitch was across the room before Peeta could blink. He heard the pained cry before he even registered the man had Gale pinned to the wall by the collar of his shirt.

“Stupid boy. You could have _killed_ her.” the Watcher spat.

“Haymitch.” Effie called in a warning tone – not quite disapproving though. Gale tried to swing his good arm but Haymitch easily avoided the punch. He wouldn’t have avoided the kick to the groin if frost hadn’t suddenly stuck Gale’s legs to the wall though. Effie was standing up now and her hands were in the air. “Haymitch, step back. He is just a child.”

“He could have _killed_ her.” Haymitch repeated, pure rage in his voice. “The only way for another Slayer to be called…”

“ _I know_. Please let him go I do _not_ want to have to hurt you.” she cut him off.

But she would, Peeta realized, because Haymitch looked ready to _murder_ Gale. It was almost a whole minute before the Watcher stepped back. Frost crept up Gale’s torso, keeping him up against the wall though.

“I didn’t do _anything_.” Gale snarled. “I just _asked_ if it was doable. I didn’t…”

“ _Shut up_.” Katniss’ voice rose, hard and unflinching.

“I was just trying to _help_ you.” the boy insisted. Haymitch let out a loud scoff and only simmered down again when Effie laid a hand on his arm. The noise seemed to infuriate Gale, he glanced at the adults and then back at her. “You’re going to get yourself _killed_.”

Katniss stared at him hard and then turned toward Peeta, looking very _very_ pissed. “How long have you known about this?”

“He came to me with it a few days ago.” Peeta admitted. “I wasn’t sure you knew or not.”

“You should have come straight to me.” she snapped.

And she was right. He knew she was right. He had known going to her was the thing to do the moment Gale had started talking about forcing the Slayer power on Effie. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.” she hissed, turning her gaze to Effie. “Let him go.”

Effie didn’t discuss it. The frost dissolved into mist and Gale slid down until his feet hit the ground. He held his bad arm with his good hand and looked back at Katniss with a crazy sort of intensity.

“Please, Catnip. You _have_ to see…” he started.

“ _Did_ you do it?” she asked. “And don’t you _dare_ lie to me. We’ll find out anyway.”

Gale shook his head. “I wouldn’t touch magic. I asked Mellark ‘cause I knew he was into that stuff.” He took a step closer to Katniss and then stopped, probably because her glare alone would have been enough to make an army reconsider. “But don’t you see? We _could_ do it. Pass your power along to someone else. Trinket could take it. You _don’t have_ to be the Slayer.”

“No.” Katniss snapped. “I don’t. But I _want_ to be.”

“It wouldn’t work.” Haymitch growled. “First, Trinket’s too old to be called. Second, the Slayer mantle ain’t something you can just _pass along_ when you don’t want it. It’s a _fucking_ destiny. It’s a _legacy_. Trying to do what you’re talking about would be spitting on the grave of every girl who came before. It’s…”

“Haymitch, I wouldn’t go along with it even if it was possible.” Katniss interrupted. “ _Calm down_.”

“It would have _killed_ you.” the Watcher spat. “If he had gone through with it. You’d be _dead_.” He turned to Peeta, anger blazing in his eyes. “And _you_. You should have come to me the second he told you that stupid plan. I _trusted_ you to be smart but maybe Trinket was right. Maybe you’ve got no business being involved at all.”

Peeta flinched and looked down. It was deserved, he knew, but it still hurt.

 “Alright.” Effie said after clearing her throat. “Back to business. We still have a demon to stop.”

“How do I kill it?” Katniss asked coldly.

Haymitch was too busy glowering to answer so Effie kept on talking after a hesitant look his way. “His fur is too thick for stabbing. Beheading would work best, assuming you find him.”

“What if I don’t?” she replied. “How do we find the one who summoned him?”

Effie nervously played with the bangles on her wrist. “I still believe this is linked to the talent show. The two girls I gave the star spot to were targeted, I find that unlikely to be a coincidence. Perhaps one of you could infiltrate the performers.”

“Katniss can sing.” Peeta suggested.

Katniss could _also_ glare.

“When she sings birds stop to listen.” Gale confirmed in a mutter.

He got a glare too.

“Let’s try to find the demon tonight and put an end to this sorry thing.” Haymitch grumbled, checking the clock. “We should get a move on. Do an early sweep in the cemetery and then tackle the same town area you found him in yesterday.”

“I’ll grab the weapons.” Peeta volunteered.

“No.” Katniss’ voice lashed out like a whip. “You and Gale are going home. I don’t need you.”

“But…” he tried to argue.

Gale was hurt, it made sense he wouldn’t be coming but _he_ could help.

“Let me be clearer.” she snapped. “I don’t _want_ you anywhere near me. You both lied to me and kept secrets.”

“You need back-up.” Gale argued. “You can’t…”

“Oh, for the love of…” Effie muttered, clearly losing her cool. “She is _the Slayer,_ boy. She does not _need_ back-up – which is not to say she won’t have it anyway because Haymitch and I are coming along – _nevertheless_ you need to get over your little misconception that she needs you to protect her because she is _perfectly_ capable of defending herself.”

Gale sneered at her. “You’d say that. You’re a _witch_. Who says you’re not on the demons’ side?”

Haymitch gritted his teeth. “Can I punch him now?”

“You will do no such thing.” Effie huffed, narrowing her eyes at Gale. “But I advise you leave before I _really_ lose my temper. I find it harder to control my powers then.”

She wriggled her fingers in the air meaningfully. It was mostly for show and probably not a real threat but Gale flinched all the same. He reached for Katniss but she avoided his hand.

“Please.” Gale requested with desperate eyes.

“Get out.” Katniss hissed before turning to Peeta. “You too.”

She was too angry to listen right then and she had a right to be so Peeta nodded and grabbed his stuff.

“I’m _really_ sorry.” he insisted, a little hesitantly. “I’d _never_ have gone along with it and I _was_ going to tell you.”

It hurt that everyone was pissed at him when he left.

It hurt even more to realize he didn’t have a place to go when he got in his car.

He could head back home, of course, but that implied facing his mother after his father had warned him not to.

In the end he ended up driving at random in hope he would spot the demon and could warn the others. He didn’t find anything so he drove back to the Village and parked the car near the entrance. He would be less likely to be picked up by a police patrol or wayward vampires there.

He settled on the backseat and try not to mind the cold too much as he closed his eyes. He was just starting to doze off when someone knocked on the window. He startled and jumped upright, his eyes falling straight into Effie’s. Her headlights were piercing the night behind her.

She must have spotted him on her way back from patrol.

He opened the back door, his cheeks flushed. “Did you find the demon?”

“No trace.” she answered distractedly, a frown on her face. “What are you doing here?”

He opened and closed his mouth but no clever lie came to his lips.

Her frown deepened. “Please, do _not_ tell me you were planning on sleeping i _n your car_.”

“I was tired. I just wanted to rest a little.” he denied. “I’m going to go home now.”

She pursed her lips and it was so obvious she knew he was lying…

“Or you could use my guest room.” she offered. “It is not entirely finished yet but there is a bed. That can only be more comfortable than your car.” The offer was so unexpected that he wasn’t sure what to answer at first. She sighed. “Peeta, dear, I will _not_ force you to talk about your home situation but you _must_ realize Haymitch and I are not unaware something is wrong there. It is alright if you do not trust us enough to confide yet but you _should_ trust us enough to ask for a place to sleep when you need it.”

“Haymitch is angry with me.” he mumbled.

“Haymitch will _not_ turn you away just because he is angry with you.” she replied. “And, even so, did _I_   give any inkling I was angry with you?”

“I don’t know you as well.” he pointed out. “I can’t just show up on my Art teacher’s doorstep and expect her to take me in.”

Her face softened and she smiled. “Yes, you can. Consider that an open invitation. I would rather have you as my guest than learn tomorrow morning you were killed by vampires because you were sleeping in your car. Come on now, follow me home. Have you eaten? I could order some take-out.”

Effie Trinket, he soon learned, was a hurricane and, bewildered, he was swept in her wake. She wasn’t happy until he was fed and settled down in her – very pink – guest room. She didn’t ask questions and she didn’t pry although the invitation to talk if he so wished was obvious.

He had never been so grateful to anyone else in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens! What do you think?


	6. Chapter 6

Haymitch’s mood hadn’t improved by the time Trinket handed him a cup of coffee at the talent show rehearsal the next day.

“I do hope Katniss can carry a tune or this will be a _complete_ disaster.” she sighed.

They were standing at the back of the auditorium, watching the kids set up. The show would be taking place the following night and they were out of time for everything that wasn’t figuring out who had summoned the wish demon. They hadn’t found its tracks the previous night but there had been another body in the morgue that morning – he had checked.

“Better hope she can find out the culprit.” he countered, his grey eyes traveling over the various groups of students.

Trinket pursed her lips and took a sip of her own cup of coffee, observing them too.

“Peeta almost spent the night in his car last night.” she said very casually.

That caught his attention and he frowned at her. “What?”

She didn’t turn her head toward him, she kept on watching the kids. “He did not volunteer details but you might want to make it _clear_ to him you are not angry with him to the point you would _ever_ refuse him shelter should he need it again.”

“I ain’t angry with _him_ , really.” he denied. He had been furious the previous day and he had taken it out on everyone – Katniss and Trinket had complained about it a lot during patrol – but the one he _really_ was angry with was Hawthorne. Angry but not surprised. He should have seen it coming. “ _Shit_ , he was really gonna sleep in his car? You took him home, right?”

She spared him an annoyed glance. “ _Of course,_ I took him home. I was not about to leave him in the streets. I told him he was welcomed back tonight if he needed a place to stay but he claims he will be going home.”

“We’re gonna need to check he _does_.” Haymitch pointed out, rubbing his face. “Or that he finds somewhere else, at least. He can’t sleep outside. Ain’t safe.” He downed half of the tepid coffee. “Speaking of _safe_ … I want you to be careful with Hawthorne.”

The fact that that stupid ill-conceived half-cooked plan of his had involved tossing the Slayer’s line back on Trinket hadn’t been lost on him. Neither had his hatred of magic and, right then, in the teenager’s very limited scope of the occult world, Trinket was the embodiment of that.

“Are you implying I cannot hold my own against a child, Haymitch?” she retorted. She sounded amused but there was a touch of irritation underneath it.

“I’m implying anyone can take a knife in the back and not see it coming until it’s digging deep, sweetheart.” he countered, reaching for her arm and giving it a squeeze. “Look… I just… _Be careful_ , that’s all I’m asking. The kid ain’t taking this whole thing very well and I don’t think he considers you to be totally human.”

Her features were schooled in a neutral expression that soon turned into her usual bubbly mask. “Do I detect _concern_? Am I growing on you, Haymitch?” A wicked grin stretched her lips and she leaned a little closer. “Or is it this nasty little _illness_ again?”

He felt his mouth stretch into an answering smirk. “ _Nasty_ ’s the right word, Princess.”

“Is it now?” she teased. “I _can_ do nasty.”

He chuckled. He couldn’t help himself. “Is there _anything_ you _can’t_ do?”

“Cook.” she deadpanned.

He didn’t think she was entirely joking. Before he could do something foolish – like offer to be the judge of that or maybe offer to cook for her just to rub her nose in the fact that _he_ could – Glimmer approached them with a haughty sneer on her face.

“Miss Trinket, when are you going to fill in the last act?” the girl demanded more than she asked. “The show is _tomorrow_.”

“I _already_ filled it.” Trinket answered in a sweet innocent tone. “Katniss will be singing.”

“Katniss?” Glimmer almost choked on the name. “Are you _kidding_?”

“I am afraid not.” She smiled and offered a small shake of her head. “Wait until you hear her sing. It is _divine_.” Under her breath and for his benefit alone, she added. _“I hope_.”

Glimmer stormed away in a rage.

“We both know she’s the one, yeah?” Haymitch asked after a few seconds.

“Naturally.” she hummed. “I thought we were waiting to see if the children would figure it out by themselves. _Weren’t_ we?”

“Yeah.” he confirmed, finishing the last of his coffee. As long as nobody else got hurt and if they worked it out before the end of rehearsals, before the demon attacked someone else. “You’ve got the counterspell ready?”

“I already gave it to Peeta.” she huffed, vexed. “Who do you take me for? A beginner?”

They would _also_ have to find a way to get the culprit to read the counterspell so the demon was sent back where it came from. All in all, it should be a lesson for Katniss. He couldn’t always give her the answers. She had to learn to figure it out.

It didn’t mean he wouldn’t be ready to intervene if things went wrong.

He didn’t ask why she had given the spell to Peeta instead of Katniss. She probably hoped the kids would talk it out and make up. He kind of hoped the same.

“I hate girls like her.” Trinket sighed, her eyes tracking Glimmer’s progress through the room.

It was a good thing he had finished his coffee because he would have choked on it. “What? Blond, beautiful, arrogant and _bitchy_ with a liking for magic?”

His mocking tone must have clued her in because she narrowed her eyes at him, tilted her head to better glare and then stormed away with a huff in the exact same way Glimmer had just done, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention and get that last rehearsal on the road.

Haymitch remained where he was and kept smirking.

Oh, but she was _hot_ when she was annoyed. And annoying her was _fun_.

°O°O°O°O°

Katniss twisted her hands one way and then the other, wishing for her bow and something to kill. Everyone backstage was looking at her, some of them were _glaring,_ and while she refused to do anything else but jut her chin up and glare right back, it was unnerving. She didn’t want to walk out on that stage and she didn’t want to sing. It had been _years_ since she had last sung. Since her father’s death.

She had never really sung in public except perhaps in kindergarten and she had had no intention of ever doing it.

“Hey.”

She glanced at Peeta and immediately felt the need to redo her shoelace if only to waste time before confronting him. She was wearing one of the pair of pants she had hauled out of Effie’s throw-away boxes and they were a little snug on her. She spared half a second to hope it wouldn’t burst at the seams but with her luck…

Peeta let out a small sigh. “Katniss, please… I’m _sorry_.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she snapped, aggressively redoing the knot on her boot.

Peeta hesitated, ran a hand in his hair… “I had… _have_ stuff going on. I know it’s no excuse, it’s just… You and Gale looked like you had everything under control and… I don’t know. I felt like I should keep my distance. And then, he talked to me about this stupid idea and I wasn’t sure if you knew or not… I wasn’t sure how to tell you about it.”

She stood up and took a good look at him, noticing for the first time the dark bags under his eyes and the way he kept on nervously tugging on his sleeves. Peeta didn’t really look good and it tugged at her heartstrings.

It wasn’t really Peeta’s fault if Gale had been behaving like an ass, no matter how pissed off she was in general. Unlike Gale, Peeta had always done what she had told him to on patrol and had never tried to put himself between her and a monster – not because he didn’t care for her safety but because he trusted her to take care of things. He had never implied she couldn’t do her job or made her feel like she was somehow _abnormal_ for wanting to do the best she could…

“Okay.” she accepted.

“Yeah?” Peeta asked hopefully. “So… We’re good?”

“We’re good.” she confirmed. “But don’t hide something like that from me again.”

“I promise.” he smiled. And that smile made all the difference. It seemed to transform his whole face. Suddenly, the exhaustion that had clung to his features faded. He took a step toward her, a little  hesitant, his arms opening… He stopped there, not quite sure if the hug was welcomed or not. That was something she appreciated. Not being _forced_ into it.

Katniss wasn’t much of a hugger but she rolled her eyes and humored him anyway, surprising herself by relaxing in his embrace.

“I’m sorry too.” she admitted tentatively. “I shouldn’t have bitten your head off like that.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry.” he promised. 

She hadn’t planned on the hug lasting more than a couple of seconds but it lingered. Right until Glimmer loudly scoffed behind them.

“You’re making a mistake, Peeta.” the girl warned. “You think she’s special? She’s just a good-for-nothing _rat_.”

Peeta stepped back and glared at his former friend. “Jealousy makes you look green, Glimmer.”

“I thought that was envy.” Katniss remarked, once the other girl had stormed back to where Marvel was watching with his arms crossed. The insult slid off her. She had faced worse than Glimmer in the last couple of months.

“Katniss, if you would?” Effie’s high-pitched voice called from the audience.

She sighed.

“You’ll be great.” Peeta said, with such confidence that it made her feel a lot better.

She took a deep breath and slipped past the red dusty curtains that separated the stage from the backstage area. It was blinding up there, spots in her eyes, the hush of all the other kids sitting on the plastic chairs, waiting for their turn to rehearse and looking bored…

“No accompanist?” Effie asked. Katniss shook her head no. If she was doing this, she would be doing it by herself. The Art teacher didn’t look convinced and tossed a glance at Haymitch who shrugged and smirked in encouragement at his Slayer. The witch pursed her lips but forced a smile. “Very well, then. In your own time.”

In  her own time would be preferably _never_.

She took a deep breath and went for the first few notes of _Deep In The Meadow_.

Nothing came out.

Not a sound.

She gripped her throat, tried to speak, started coughing…

“Dear, are you alright?” Effie asked in a worried tone.

She tried to answer, she did, but her voice was _gone_.

“She choked.” Glimmer called out from the audience, triggering a round of laughter from her friends. “That’s why you don’t give the star spot to _amateurs_.”

Katniss was so busy glaring at her that she startled when Peeta’s hand grabbed her shoulder. She lifted her arm to hit him and only aborted the move at the last second when she recognized him. She felt strangely vulnerable up on that stage, her throat scratchy for no good reason. She tried to talk again, she tried to _scream_ , but nothing came out.

Peeta’s thumb was running soothing circles on her shoulder, his blue eyes on Glimmer.

“You know what? She’s been after the star spot since the beginning of the week…” he whispered slowly. “You don’t think…”

She shot another look at Glimmer and now that he said it she _really_ did think it.

That _witch._

She started heading toward the narrow steps that led down the stage and into the audience but Peeta held her back. “Wait, wait… We need proof. We can’t just accuse her without proof. She must have a magic book or something.”

“Katniss?” Effie insisted in a tight voice. “Are you singing or do you need a minute?”

Katniss waved her off angrily and stormed back downstage, barely listening as Glimmer volunteered to take her place. Of course.

Gale immediately descended on her from where he had been hovering toward the back of the set, his arm still strapped against his chest. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

She hoped her glare was answer enough.

Peeta winced. “Look, I know you want to help…”

“Oh, you _know_ , right?” Gale sneered. “Don’t think I won’t get you back for yesterday. You threw me under the bus to make yourself look good and you know it.”

Katniss _really_ didn’t feel like being ignored right at that moment. She stepped in between them and shoved Gale back, careful of the injured arm and her strength. It didn’t physically hurt him but pain passed on his face all the same.

_You’re the one who screwed up_ , she wanted to shout so badly.

She deliberately turned her back on him, hoping the message would go through clearly enough, and stared at Peeta, lifting her eyebrows in question. It was a long minute before the boy stopped looking over her shoulder to meet her eyes.

“Okay. Where would a girl hide a book she doesn’t want anyone else to see?” he asked. She shrugged her ignorance and he made a face. “She must have it here, right? I mean… I guess she could keep it at home but it all started _here_ with Livia so… _Think_. Where do you hide your Slayer stuff? Your bag?”

She only used her bag to carry her textbooks and her school stuff. Sometimes dead rabbits or birds if she went to hunt in the woods – something she hadn’t indulged in for far too long.

With her hands, she mimed a door opening and closing.

“Her locker!” he exclaimed after a few seconds and then nodded. “Yes. Yes. Let’s check that.”

He grabbed her hand and tugged her along despite the fact she was perfectly capable of following him by herself. She was temporary mute, not deficient.

The hallways were empty, which suited them just fine. Peeta guided her to the right locker and then looked left and right while she discreetly broke the lock and tear the door open. There were a lot of glittery stuff in there but no matter how much she rummaged through the contents, she couldn’t find any magic book.

“What are you doing?” Glimmer shrieked, heading straight toward them, her heels clicking on the linoleum floor just as aggressively as Effie’s always did. “That’s _it_! I’m going to talk to Heavensbee about you! You thief!”

Her big black purse was dangling from her arm and Katniss’ eyes narrowed. The fact that _she_ didn’t use her bag to hide her stuff didn’t mean other girls _didn’t_. She shot straight at her and Glimmer shrieked again – in fear this time. She snatched the bag and upturned it on the floor. School books, tampons, pencils, a pink-cased phone and a lot of knick-knacks scattered on the ground. Katniss dove for the books, checking they were really textbooks and not spellbooks in disguise.

“We _know_ it was you.” Peeta accused, distracting the gaping girl from Katniss’ search. “You summoned a wish demon.”

“I summoned a _what_?” Glimmer repeated, clearly baffled. Then she rolled her eyes and pushed Katniss away, crouching down to toss everything back into her purse, glaring at her all the while. “I don’t know if this magic stuff is the latest fashion where you come from but let me tell you it’s so _retro_ it’s _lame_. First Marvel, then you…”

“What?” Peeta frowned. “Marvel?”

Glimmer rolled her eyes again. “He was all about that book he found at that antic store his mother dragged him to last week. So lame. Do I _look_ like I have time for this childish games?” She glared at Katniss. “I’m not done with _you_. I _will_ report you.”

Katniss rolled her eyes. _Report away_ , she thought. She looked up at Peeta who nodded. The coincidence was too big.

“Where’s Marvel now?” he asked.

Glimmer snorted. “Why? You want to break into _his_ locker and upturn _his_ bag too?” She waved it off, as if she was entirely bored with the conversation now – which she probably was. She headed up to her locker, scowled when she realized the door was broken, and eventually located a lipstick inside that she started applying on her lips. That was probably why she had come over there in the first place. “He said he wanted to work out.”

One look and she and Peeta were running toward the gym. Katniss hesitated only a second in front of the boys’ locker room before barging in after Peeta. Lucky for her, Marvel was already wearing shorts and was slipping a tee-shirt over his head – there were things she didn’t want to see.

She shot past Peeta, grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall of lockers.

“What the…” he spat.

Then he tried to shrug her off.

_Good luck with that,_ she thought with satisfaction,

Slayer against regular teenager boy, no matter how strong, wasn’t an even match.

“What the _fuck_!” Marvel snapped. “Mellark, get your watchdog off me! _Freak_!”

“What were you thinking, Marvel?” Peeta snapped, right back, heading straight to the still open locker. He rummaged through clearly dirty clothes and came up empty-handed. “Where’s the book?”

“What book?” the other boy challenged.

Katniss slammed him against the wall again. Not too hard but hard enough to bruise.

“She means the magic book.” Peeta replied. “You know? The one you just used to steal her voice?”

Marvel glanced at her, a glint of fear in his eyes, but it was Peeta he was really looking at, as if she wasn’t the serious threat in the room. “Come on, man… That’s _bull_ , you know. It’s just for fun. Don’t tell me you believe…” She really wasn’t that nice when she slammed him against the lockers for the third time. “Okay, okay! It’s in my bag!”

It took Peeta a few second to locate the bag and then upturn it like Katniss had done with Glimmer’s. Eventually, he lifted up a thin black book in triumph and wedged it into the back pocket of his jeans tugging a piece of paper from his other pocket.

“You have to read the counterspell.” Peeta commanded. “And you better _mean_ it if you don’t want the demon to come and pop _your_ head off.”

“You’re crazy.” Marvel spat. “Demons don’t exist. It’s just…”

“So you didn’t wish Livia had warts and Fanny would break her leg and you didn’t wish Katniss lost her voice?” he mocked.

Katniss would have growled if she had been able to produce sound.

“It’s just crazy coincidences, man.” Marvel shook his head, battling at her wrists. She didn’t loosen her grip. “Glimmer wanted the last spot so bad… But I didn’t do _anything_. It was just for fun…”

Katniss glanced at Peeta and rolled her eyes, nodding at Marvel so he would get a move on.

“Read the counterspell.” Peeta urged, holding the piece of paper in front of his eyes.

Marvel stuttered the required sentences in what sounded like a very approximate Latin to Katniss’ ears. She felt the rush of something she was starting to associate to magic a second after he was done. She took a deep breath and growled. This time, her voice worked.

“ _Asshole_.” she spat. Just because she could.

“ _Bitch_.” Marvel replied without missing a beat, a sneer on his lips.

She didn’t even feel the slightest bit bad when she knocked him off. She was just careful not to hit hard enough to leave lasting damages.

“Won’t you get in trouble?” Peeta winced.

“You think he is going to tell around that he got his ass kicked by a girl?” she scoffed, leading the way out of the locker room. “What is it with boys who think girls can’t do stuff by themselves? I don’t like Glimmer much but I don’t think she’d be happy to get the star spot just because _her boyfriend_ handed it to her.”

“Boys can be stupid when they like a girl.” Peeta sighed and, because she tossed him a suspicious glance, he added. “I guess.”

“Boys can be very stupid alright.” she snorted. “Do you think Gale will try something?”

Worry pierced through her despite her best effort. Haymitch had ranted long and hard enough the previous night on patrol for her to figure out any attempts at removing her powers would backfire spectacularly.

“I don’t know.” Peeta hesitated. “We could try to talk to him. Explain again. But… Maybe not with Haymitch present.”

Haymitch _really_ wanted to strangle him and she couldn’t blame him.

The thing was… She had explained things to Gale until she was blue in the face. She didn’t think anything else she could say would make a difference.

“He _really_ was looking into a way to get rid of my powers?” she insisted, still disbelieving.

Not being the Slayer… She didn’t remember what it felt like. She had been miserable before Haymitch had walked into her life. Despite the vampires, despite the destiny and the limited lifespan… Now, she had enough money to take care of Prim like her sister should be taken care of, her mother had a good doctor and she was doing a little better, _she_ had a purpose… And she had _Haymitch_. It was new and she was still getting used to the idea that she could plainly rely on someone, but she trusted Haymitch more than she had trusted any other adult in a very long time. She had made new friends, _good_ friends…

What did she have before? Evenings spent roaming the woods in hope of catching dinner so her sister didn’t go to bed with only cereals in her belly? She had only been able to rely on Gale then and maybe that was what the other boy couldn’t stomach. Now she didn’t need him as much anymore.

Being the Slayer might have been a curse for some but for her… For her it hadn’t been all bad.

As long as Prim remained safe and happy, she could deal with anything.

“I’m sorry.” Peeta offered again.

They were reaching the auditorium and she shook her head. It really wasn’t his fault.

She joined Haymitch at the back of the room. Her Watcher looked ready to bash his head against the wall if only it would take him out of there quicker. He brightened up a little when he spotted them. “So?”

“So, it’s taken care of.” she answered and he smirked.

“Glimmer, right?” he asked.

“Marvel.” Peeta corrected.

“Yeah?” Haymitch’s eyebrows shot up. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Apparently the school is full of boys who know better than girls what is good for them.” Katniss deadpanned.

“Hear, hear.” Effie sighed, joining them. “Is it done?” They caught her up and she beamed. “Very well done, dears. Isn’t it very well done, Haymitch?”

He rolled his eyes but humored her by patting Katniss on the head. She batted his hand away with a glare. She wasn’t a dog.

“Good job, girl.” he praised anyway. Then, his eyes fell on Peeta who had been avoiding his gaze and generally looked _very_ ill-at-ease. “You too, boy. So, you’re back on the team full time or what? I need help with the research.”

Peeta’s smile, Katniss decided, could have lit up the whole room. She flushed a little as she thought that and cleared her throat.

“ _Alright_.” Effie declared, her voice rising up a notch in excitement. “Now that this is settled… Katniss, you are up next. Warm up.”

“What?” Katniss asked, a little strangled. “But it’s over! I don’t need…”

“I am still missing a star act.” The Art teacher dismissed, placing her hands on her shoulders and steering her toward the stage. “Think of it as a reward. You _earned_ it.”

“ _Earned_ _it_?” she screeched, twisting her head to look at Haymitch and Peeta, pleading for help. Neither of them moved. _Cowards_.

Effie wouldn’t listen to her well-funded objections and she wasn’t happy until she was up on the stage.

She also had the nerves to tell her not to scowl because it would give her wrinkles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: the talent show and overdue conversations ;) Let me know your thoughts!


	7. Chapter 7

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.” Prim pronounced, clearly fighting laughter.

Katniss resisted the childish urge to stick out her tongue at her and closed her eyes so her sister could finish applying the make-up that was, apparently, non-optional. Madge turned the bird pin between her fingers and tried to hide her chuckles, a bit ill-at-ease maybe. She and Katniss had been on slightly rocking ground since the Maysilee reveal but she trusted Madge when she said she hadn’t meant Haymitch to almost have a heart attack so… She had decided to let it go. 

The classroom-turned-dressing-room was too noisy and crowded for her taste and she would have skipped that part of the process entirely if Prim hadn’t insisted. She was wearing the yellow dress Effie had given her and her mother had actually gotten out of bed to do her hair earlier. The whole thing felt _big_ in ways that were entirely uncomfortable given that she didn’t see the point of walking out on that stage and making a spectacle of herself.

“I can’t believe it either.” she grumbled.

Truth be told, she was still looking for escape routes.

“Mr Abernathy couldn’t get you out of it?” Madge asked.

“He barely managed to get me off the hook because of Glimmer.” Katniss made a face, prompting Prim to let out a dismayed noise and accuse her of sabotaging her work. She elected to ignore it just like she had chosen not to doubt a twelve year-old’s skills with make-up. When it came to Prim, she had complete faith in her abilities. “That little snitch…”

A little snitch who was saying all around the school that not only was she a thief who broke into lockers but that she had disappeared with Peeta in the men’s changing rooms. Everyone had their opinions about _that_.

Haymitch had been forced to _carefully_ diffuse the thievery accusation – not easy because of her past – and Heavensbee wasn’t entirely happy with her still. Not doing the talent show at that point would have been ill-advised _–_ that _and_ Effie might have _literally_ cursed her for ruining her big night.

Prim seemed to be done with her eyes so she cautiously opened them again while her sister compared different shades of red lipsticks. She met Madge’s gaze and her friend smiled, carefully pinning the bird brooch on her chest.

“Do you want it back?” Katniss asked. “You’ve got so little of your aunt…”

“I think it belongs with the Slayer.” Madge refused, her smile dimming just a little. “I’m almost done reading the journal Miss Trinket gave to me, you know. Maysilee was… She was a hero. You _all_ are.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m no hero, Madge.”

“Yes, you are.” Prim argued. “Puck out your lips.”

She frowned. “Are you _sure_ you know what you are doing?”

“Do I wear make-up every day?” her sister retorted.

Her frown deepened. “Not that I know of.”

She wasn’t sure she liked the thought of her baby sister wearing make-up so young.

“That should answer your question, then.” Prim cheekily retorted.

“You might want to wipe off some of that eyeshadow…” Madge warned.

Katniss didn’t even have time to protest before Prim was applying the lipstick.

Two seconds later, Effie was standing at the doorframe and clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. “It is showtime! Today is a big, big, _big_ day! We cannot be late!” Everyone started filling out of the room and Katniss was standing up too, her legs strangely jelly-like, when the Art teacher caught sight of her and made a face. “Oh dear. That _won’t_ do. That won’t do _at all_.” She pushed Katniss back down on the chair and shooed Madge and Prim away before cleaning off her face with the wipes Madge had brought, clucking her tongue all the while. “You look like a cave painting!”

She didn’t dare protest. Besides, she had a feeling Effie, unlike Prim, _knew_ what she was doing. The woman had her ready in record time, chatting all the while about why Katniss shouldn’t be nervous and giving unnecessary tips to fight off stage fright.

“You look _perfect_.” Effie declared at last, her approving gaze roaming over her. “I _knew_ that dress was made for you. You will make them _all_ mad. They will either want to kiss you, kill you or _be_ you.”

The witch said it like it was a good thing.

“Thanks.” Katniss said, not quite sure what she was thanking her for.

Effie beamed, her lips stretching into a happy grin and ushered her toward the auditorium.

“Now, remember…” the Art teacher whispered before leaving her alone backstage to wait for her turn. “Eyes _bright_ , chin _up_ , smile _on_.”

Well…. Katniss thought, watching her slipping through the curtains to welcome the parents, students and teachers who had bothered to show up, it was either doing what she advised or letting the nausea win.

“Katniss?”

She turned by reflex, registering the voice only too late. Gale stood there, hesitant.

“You look nice.” he said.

“I’m not ready to talk to you yet.” she snapped.

“Please.” he insisted. “I just…”

“I _said_ I’m not ready to talk to you.” she cut him off with a hiss.

He studied her for a second and then turned away, shaking his head. It hurt her to watch him go but, for now, it was for the best.

She couldn’t trust him, that was the sad truth.

°O°O°O°O°O°

The talent show was just on the right edge between _alright_ and _disastrous_ to be entertaining. If Peeta, Prim and Madge had been the kind for harsh criticisms, they would have had a lot of fun. As it was, they simply exchanged eye rolls and knowing smiles every time something awful happened on stage.

At some point, Peeta spotted Haymitch leaning against the wall, keeping a bored eye on the stage and he excused himself from the girls before starting the long full of “sorry” road that got him out of the row of chairs they were sitting on. The History teacher didn’t say anything when Peeta joined him, simply took a discreet sip of his flask.

“I can’t believe Katniss is really going to sing.” he commented, unable to refrain his excitement. It had been _years_ since he had heard her sing but his childhood self still remembered the thrill of it.

“That’s how you know Trinket’s a witch.” Haymitch snorted. “All senses of the term.”

“Effie’s nice.” he snapped, a bit defensively.

He knew Katniss had wanted to bail out of the talent show but thanks to Glimmer’s not really untrue accusations, she hadn’t had a real choice. Besides, Effie had been adamant they didn’t have time to change anything now and that the show had to go on exactly as it had been rehearsed the previous day. Peeta thought she took her role as a director with a little too much seriousness and dedication because, as Haymitch had pointed out, this wasn’t Broadway, but Effie was kind and good-hearted underneath all the flourish and he felt compelled to defend her.

“Didn’t say it was a bad thing, now.” the Watcher snorted, an amused smirk dancing on his lips. “ _I_ ’ve got no problem with witches. Hold your horse.”

Peeta searched his face, having zero interest for the magic tricks happening on stage. They were cheap, not really impressive, and now that he had seen real magic, held little fascination for him. Even if he could admit the boy was good at his trade. It wouldn’t score him many points with girls, Peeta figured, but he was good.

Finally, he realized that despite the incessant arguments and burgeoning fights, Haymitch really hadn’t made it sound like being a witch was a bad thing. If anything, he had seemed _fond_. 

Maybe Effie was growing on him after all.

Peeta leaned back against the wall and watched what was happening on stage for a while. When the would-be magician bowed and Effie introduced the next performer, he slouched a little.

“I’m sorry I disappointed you.” he mumbled, feeling the knife twist in his heart again. He didn’t blame Haymitch for being so angry with him the other day but the rejection had stung.

“Guess I could say the same.” Haymitch muttered. “Look…”

“You were right. I should have talked to Katniss or you the moment Gale came up with this.” he sighed. “I don’t even know… I just needed space and then…”

“Then you realized you didn’t _want_ space.” Haymitch finished for him. “It’s alright, kid. Sometimes I forget what it’s like to be a sixteen year-old boy.” He sighed. “Never mind a _regular_ one.”

Peeta rubbed the spot on his left forearm where the burn had finally peeled away, leaving a fresh pinkish scar. “I’m not exactly a regular one, though, right?”

He wasn’t sure what had made him say it, all the more so in that vulnerable tone of voice. Predictably, because he never missed much, Haymitch’s grey eyes tracked his hand and where it was rubbing.

“About _that_ …” the Watcher said slowly, almost _carefully_. “I ain’t gonna force you to tell me what you’re not ready to tell me… But, kid… If you need a place to stay…”

“Effie told you.” he cut him off. He flushed so hard he could feel the tip of his ears burning.

“Of course, she told me.” Haymitch scoffed.

“Is that why you followed me last night?” he challenged. “To make sure I went home?” At the man’s slight frown, he shrugged. “The bike isn’t really unremarkable, Haymitch.”

A part of him had told himself it was because Haymitch didn’t trust him anymore, that the Watcher thought he would be meeting with Gale or…

Relief, as tentative as it was since the Watcher had yet to confirm, washed over him in a cool wave.

“You _can’t_ sleep outside.” Haymitch enounced clearly, even a little firmly. “It’s _too_ dangerous. My point is… I ain’t gonna force you to talk to me but if you need a place to spend the night again… Or a few days even… You don’t set camp in your car, boy, you come to _me_. Doesn’t matter if I’m angry with you, alright? I’m never gonna be so angry I want to leave you to the streets. You can talk to her about it, but I’m pretty sure same goes for Trinket. You’ve always got a roof if you need it, understood?”

There was a very big lump in Peeta’s throat and all he could do was nod. If he had tried to talk, his voice would have cracked and it would have been embarrassing.

Haymitch watched him for a minute and then sighed, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. He flinched a little but it was reflex and the Watcher didn’t seem to take offense because he gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Kid, as far as I’m concerned you’re just as mine as Katniss is now.” the Watcher declared. “And I take care of mine. Won’t lie, I don’t have the best track records but… _I take care of mine_.”

He was pretty sure Haymitch wasn’t expecting the hug because he awkwardly patted his back before letting go, clearing his throat. The Watcher looked a little embarrassed, probably because he didn’t like dealing with anything resembling feelings. The Maysilee/Madge thing had proved that if anything.

Finally, Effie announced Katniss and Peeta stood a little straighter. When his friend walked on stage, he sucked in a breath. He hadn’t seen her before and she looked… The yellow dress looked soft against her olive skin, her hair was up and twirls of gold ribbons had been braided into it, it gave the impression she had a crown on her head when the spotlights hit it just right, the make-up – and had he ever seen her wearing any? – made her eyes darker, gave her a dangerous edge… She looked blinding.

If he hadn’t been in love before, he certainly was now.

“Pick up your jaw, kid.” Haymitch advised, contained laughter in his voice.

Peeta closed his mouth but didn’t once glanced away from her. That was how he missed Effie sneaking out of the backstage area and joining them.

“Doesn’t she look wonderful?” she whispered, with a manic grin.

Katniss looked ill-at-ease on that stage but then she closed her eyes and started to sing. _Deep In The Meadow_ was a local lullaby that Peeta had heard a thousand times. But never like this. A hush fell on the audience with her first notes, her voice was so pure, so perfect, so full of _feelings_ … 

He barely felt Haymitch’s hand finding his shoulder again, barely noticed the man leaning in.

“You’re in too deep, boy.” the Watcher commented in his ear, a little mocking but not without compassion.

Peeta threw him a quick glance, noticed the way Effie had sneaked both her arms around his and was hugging it close to her chest, her eyes on Katniss, teary from the song…

Maybe he was in too deep, he thought, but he had the feeling he wasn’t the only one.

°O°O°O°O°O°

Haymitch should have left the bed the moment they were done.

The problem hadn’t arisen the other night – mostly because they had never made it to the bed, they had barely made it inside and Trinket had been the only one with no clothes on by the time Katniss had called about the demon, he had still been on his knees and there had been no time to make it _fair –_ but he knew if he lingered too long he would be setting a precedent that he wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with.

And yet, there he laid, with one hand distractedly brushing up and down her naked back, his eyes studying the walls of her bedroom.

“This place looks like a brothel.” he snorted eventually.

Who painted their bedroom crimson?

“Are you complaining?” she grinned, pillowing her head on her arms to look at him. She was lying next to him, on her stomach, unconcerned by the fact the sheets had fallen off the bed at some point.

He liked that about her, how unconcerned she was with nudity, how confident she was about her body… Some women snatched the sheets up as soon as the deed was done, she didn’t mind him looking – _admiring_ – and there was a lot to look at. The hand roaming on her back traveled lower until he found her ass…

He was on his side, turned toward her and maybe that, too, was a mistake. It betrayed an interest he was pretty sure he didn’t want to deal with any more than he wanted to shoulder her possible expectations. His interest gave her power over him and he hated it when someone had something  to hold over him.

But, _fuck_ , if he could stop himself from wanting her…

“Fits you.” he teased.

Another woman might have taken offense – and she was always behaving so prim and proper he almost expected her to – but she laughed instead, as confident in her skills in the bedroom as she was about her appearance. She had reasons to be though.

Her smile softened a little as she searched his face. “Tonight was amazing, wasn’t it?” A smug smirk stretched his lips but she rolled her eyes before he could answer that with a taunt about his own _many_ skills. “Take your mind out of the gutter, Haymitch, really! I meant _the talent show_. It went well, didn’t it? Plutarch congratulated me twice.”

“You _do_ get the teacher thing is only a cover story, yeah?” he mocked.

“It is no excuse _not_ to do the best job we can.” she argued with a pout that he considered kissing away for a good minute.

He might have if she hadn’t shivered.

“Cold?” he asked, already glancing around for a corner of the blankets he could tug on with his foot. Picking up the sheets would have meant moving and, if he moved, he knew he would have to go. He didn’t want to go just yet.

“I saw Gale talking to Katniss.” she told him. “She rejected him.”

“Good.” he commented, letting go of his quest for the blankets. She didn’t actually look cold, just… worried. “What? Spit it out, sweetheart.”

She hesitated, he saw it plainly. She hesitated and then bent her leg so her shin was pressed against his thighs. It was casual, it could have passed for an accident, but it looked a little _too_ casual. He had a feeling she was just searching for _contact_ , for _comfort_ maybe.

“Do you think… Do you think it might have worked? His plan to force the Slayer’s line on me?” she whispered.

She hid it well because she was good at always keeping up a pretence but he heard the fear in her voice.

“It’d have killed Katniss.” he argued. And he dearly hoped the boy had given up on that stupid idea. He’d need to sit him down and have a talk with him again soon. Once he was sure he had calmed down enough that he would not try to strangle him again.

“I know.” She shifted again, turning completely away from him until all he could see was her back and her slender neck. He stubbornly placed his hand on her hip, refusing to be dismissed that easily. There was a scar on her hipbone. There were a few others on her body, none too noticeable. He liked them. It proved she was a fighter too – if that still needed to be proven. She curled up. “But do you think… Do you think it would have worked or would the next Slayer have been called?”

“Do you _want_ to be the Slayer?” He frowned, not quite following her. It was never going to happen anyway. No spell like that existed, it would have to be created. And Hawthorne didn’t have the means, the resources or the power to do it. Sure, he could probably hire someone to do it for him but…

“No.” The answer was immediate and followed by another of those shivers that didn’t seem to come from the cold.

He deliberated for a second and then threw caution to the wind. He snuggled close behind her, spooning her. Spontaneous cuddles were a big _no-no_ with one-night-stands, he reminded himself. And yet the tension in her body slowly eased and he considered it a win.

“What’s up with you?” he asked, letting his hand slide down from her hip to her stomach.

She grabbed the hand and brought it up to her breast. He didn’t mind that sort of cuddling session _at all_ so he fondled it while she talked. “I have been thinking…”

“Told you you’d end up hurting yourself…” he taunted. His punishment was immediate. She relocated his hand to her stomach again. He hid his sulk in the soft curls of her hair, nuzzling her nape in something that wasn’t quite an apology. “Fine. What have you been thinking about?”

“Fate.” she murmured. “Do you believe in fate?”

Hard not to when it had dictated most of his life, calling his mother and his girlfriend to serve in a hopeless holy war against evil. Hard not to when he had witnessed firsthand how cruel it could be. 

“I believe fate’s a bitch.” he offered honestly. “What’s it got to do with anything?”

“I might have been a Slayer.” she answered. “I might have been the Slayer instead of Maysilee twenty years ago. Perhaps the Council would have sent me here. Perhaps you would have been my Watcher…”

“More likely you’d have kept _your_ Watcher, Princess.” he countered and then conceded. “But they might have sent me to help.”

“Chances are we would have met then.” she insisted. “Chances are I would be dead.”

“No chances about that.” he said, almost regretfully. “You’d _be_ dead.”

Something would have gotten her at some point or other with or without his personal determination to keep her safe. Even the best Slayers fell eventually.

And history had proven he was not much of a body shield. He stood back up every time but his girls… His girls always fell.

“Yes.” She licked her lips, burrowed back a little. He tightened his hold, not liking that line of thoughts any more than she did. Imagining her dead was strangely disturbing. “My point is… Here I am now, twenty years later, in the town I would have been sent to if I had been called, in a relationship with _you,_ and a boy talks about making me the Slayer even though I am supposed to be free from that possibility… It all feels a little too much like fate and I cannot help but wonder… Are those omens? Am I going to die here now like I might have twenty years ago?”

When she presented it like that…

“We ain’t in a relationship.” he countered because that was the easiest thing to deny. The only one he was in any position to deny with certainty, really.

“Of course, we are.” she argued. He tensed but before he could panic or lose his temper, she wrapped her fingers around his forearm. “I do not mean a _romantic one_. We can… We can keep the sex casual, if you wish. But we _do_ have a relationship now. A working one if anything. I would like to think we are friends at the very least too.”

And she was right, he figured.

He sighed and scooted back so he had enough space to force her to roll on her back. She did so willingly enough, searching his eyes. She looked so small and frightened… He didn’t like that. He brushed the back of his fingers on her cheek, gently nudged her chin up a little…

“Fate has biggest fish to fry than you, Effie.” he said slowly, forcing his tone to sound mocking. “You’ve got such an _ego_ … Everything has to be about you, yeah? There _are_ some things like coincidences, you know.”

But that was bigger than a few coincidences and they both knew it.

“It is the first time you called me Effie.” she remarked, brushing her hand down his chest.

He felt a change of topics was in order. “So… The casual sex… How would it work?”

The gloomy thoughts slowly vanished from behind her eyes, replaced with amusement and a touch of arousal – although that might have been because his hand had wandered down her stomach.

“ _Casual_. As the name implies.” she deadpanned, letting her legs fall open. One of them was propped against his stomach and he hooked his arm around it for better access… “Haymitch…”

“I’ve never done that kind of things.” he admitted. He had one-night-stands. A relationship, even a casual one… He hadn’t had that since he had been sixteen. He had never even slept twice with a woman since… “Ain’t sure how it works.”

“Well…” She was a little short of breath and he dropped a kiss against her shoulder with a smirk before moving his mouth to her breast. “ _Oh_. There would be… No strings attached… You are free… I am free… But if we are both in the mood…”

The breathy pauses in the middle of her sentences made it very hard for him to stay focused.

“No complications.” he insisted. “No dating. No feelings.”

“No dating, no feelings.” she agreed, her head falling back a little when his fingers hit the right spot. “ _Yes_ …”

He brought her close a few times only to leave her hanging, amused by the pleasure and the frustration battling on her face.

“I’ve got a question…” he said against her mouth. It might not have been the best time to ask it but it had been on his mind for the past couple of days. Since the hospital. “You like girls too?”

Her eyelids flew open and she searched his eyes for a while before licking her lips. She didn’t stop rocking her hips.

“I like people.” she answered. “No matter the package. Is that a problem?”

She asked it in a very detached tone that told him it _had_ been a problem before.

He had never really found himself in that situation before and he had never really needed to consider it but he found that he already had an answer ready and that it was an easy one. “Not as long as you like _my_ package.”

The way she kissed him next made him dizzy with lack of oxygen. From then, it grew wild and rough.

He briefly wondered if it could ever be _anything_ but wild and rough. And then he stopped thinking.

Temptation.

Giving in to it was the first step on the slippery path that went down to hell…

Well…

It looked like he was hell bound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's the end of this episode! I hope you enjoyed it! What do you think the future holds for them? Find out in two weeks time in our new episode!

**Author's Note:**

> Loved it? Hated it? Let me know you thoughts!


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